


Geminus Terra

by allisbuttoys



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 69,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allisbuttoys/pseuds/allisbuttoys
Summary: JK Rowling has written the novels, I'm simply doodling in the margins.





	1. Time is Fleeting

**May 1997**

They had laid the dead out in the Great Hall. The place where some of her happiest memories of this place had been created was now a mortuary. It was more than ironic, it was sick. The bodies of so many people, including some that she cared for dearly. Fred, Tonks, Remus. Gone.

Hermione Granger sank onto the floor behind one of the pillars, determined that no one should see her cry. And cry she did, huge sobs that wracked her small frame almost violently, leaving tear lines down the face that had grown grubby from months on the run. They had lost so much, so many.

At least Ron was with his family, where he needed to be. At least he and Harry were safe.

Harry.

Hermione leapt up. Where had he gone? They had lost him when they re-entered the castle, all three desperate to find out who was among the dead, lest it be someone they loved.

‘Harry Potter is dead.’

What little activity there was in the castle stopped immediately as the high, cold voice filled the place.

‘He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives from him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.’ Lies, Hermione thought angrily as she stood and joined the throng of people gliding almost silently towards the door. An automatic response, they needed to see the proof.

‘The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist , man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, and kneel before me, and you will be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.’

She was at the bottom of the steps now, squinting to see the front of the approaching dark army. A murmur ran through the crowd, disbelief in what they were being told, it was only when Hagrid stepped forward did they see the horrible truth.

‘NO!’

The professor’s strangled cry echoed off the walls of the old castle. Hermione couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The worst scenario she could imagine was being played out in front of her eyes.

‘No!.. No!.. Harry! HARRY!’

The calls came from all sides and Hermione whimpered loudly as her mind processed what she saw in front of her. Hagrid sobbing. Harry lying motionless in his arms. The Death Eaters laughing. Voldemort victorious.

Numbness spread through her body. She hardly saw Neville charge forward and challenge Voldemort. She didn’t register the sudden recommencement of fighting until Ron was pushing her back, yelling for her to arm herself. Hermione stumbled, momentarily stunned.

It was all over, everything they had worked for over the last year. If she was honest, everything the Order had tried to achieve for the last twenty years. She sobbed. It was all over...

A hand grabbed at her arm and Hermione was pulled back behind the stone steps, away from the battle. She turned, drawing her wand, ready to fight. Sybill Trelawney’s huge bug-like eyes shone from behind her frames.

‘History is being rewritten.’ Hermione stared, open mouthed. Harry had once described what the Divination professor looked like when in a real trance. This seemed to be the genuine article. Thinking of Harry sent a shooting pain through Hermione’s chest but she forced herself to listen, recognising that whatever the old fraud had to say now was possible more important than every other word ever uttered from her mouth. ‘Events are in motion. You will stand alone and together. Old allies and new friends. Personal loss will lead to gain. An alternate path, a new prophecy. It has come... Come up to the castle, dear, it’s not safe.’

She shook her head. There would be time to ponder the old bat’s words later. If nothing else, they had made her think of Harry, of his determination. Hermione knew what he would be telling her if he were alive. Keep going, Hermione, keep fighting. Wand at the ready, Hermione ran back to join the fray.

It was chaos, people running and screaming. Ginny and Luna were battling Bellatrix Lestange, Hermione shot a curse at her, but the madwoman shrieked in delight at another opponent and danced around it. Molly Weasley barrelled through and Hermione deflected a curse directed at Neville. She engaged another attacker.

‘Well, well, if it isn’t the pretty little mudblood.’ Hermione’s blood ran cold at the sight of the man who had nearly killed her two years ago. Dolohov advanced slowly, twirling his wand. ‘I look forward to finishing what I started, I’ve already dealt with the fool who rescued you from me the last time we met.’

Hermione resisted the pains shooting across her chest. Professor Lupin, she thought, he killed Remus.

‘Sectumsempra!’

Hermione felt the curse hit her upper arm, blood flowing from the wound, but it was still only a minor injury.

‘Avada kedavra!’

She leapt to the side, just managing to avoid the curse, it hit a Death Eater behind her. ‘Prote...’

‘Geminus terra!’

The curse hit just above her heart and Hermione felt her eyes roll back into her head. She felt herself falling, but passed into darkness and never felt the impact of the ground below.


	2. Imitating Yesterday

**August 1982**

She was disoriented and her vision swam as she came to. A piercing pain flooded through her body and Hermione fought against it as instinct told her to get up, to keep going. Her very life depended on it.

She blinked once more and pushed herself to her feet, looking for Dolohov, but she saw no one. Her surroundings had changed dramatically, instead of the school lawn torn up and littered with debris, the grass rolled out in front of her, right up to the unblemished castle walls. And the sun was shining brightly. When she had fallen it had been highly overcast and the dark mark had loomed overhead.

She was too exposed, standing here in the open and she backed up into the trees at the edge of the forest and looked around her. There was no one in sight, no sign of the battle that had been taking place when she had been hit by Dolohov’s curse. What on earth was going on?

Though it was dismissed by many wizards as folklore, the witch was well aware that a pinch could act as adequate proof that one was not dreaming. She pinched her leg. It hurt. It was at this point that she had to consider the option that she might no longer be alive. After all, she didn’t know what the curse she had been hit with was, she couldn’t even remember the spell.

She tried to logically map out the last few seconds of the battle in her mind. She remembered fighting, she vaguely recalled someone speaking to her as she tried to rejoin the battle, she remembered...

It was only then that the horrible truth had come rushing back to her. She may or may not be dead, but many of the people she loved were. Harry...

And right there, hidden in the shadows of the trees, Hermione Jean Granger fell to her knees and wept.

/-/

In the last few years Hermione had lost people who had been very important in her life. First had been Cedric Diggory. She had not known him well, but Cedric had always been polite and kind to her. It was in the hours after his death she had begun to realise how important he would be to her future. The war was starting and the Hufflebuff boy would only be the first in the list of casualties. Her recognition of the fact that Voldemort would simply view him as collateral damage made Hermione even more determined to remember Cedric as she had seen him at school.

Then, at the end of fifth year, Sirius had been killed. While she may not have agreed with him all the time, Hermione had always respected the older wizard. In that one day, Harry lost the last remaining chance he had for any sort of parental relationship. Hermione watched how it drove him and how this, in turn, effected both her and Ron.

The same thing happened the next year, after the death of Albus Dumbledore. The death toll of the war was rising and it only increased their determination. Harry had to succeed, for all their sakes. As Hermione sat listening to Fawkes sing over his master’s grave her decision was made. The future of the world rested on Harry’s shoulders and she would give anything to make sure that he succeeded. At that moment she had been so full of determination that she had never considered the possibility that Harry might fail, it simply wasn’t an option. Now he was gone, along with so many others that she had cared for, and along with Hermione’s purpose and determination. If Harry was dead, was there any way they could win this war.

That was, if she wasn’t already dead herself. She dug deep to try and resurrect something of that determination and picked herself up. Wiping her tears on the back of her hand, she stood and began the trek down the school drive to the boundary of the apparition barrier, keeping on the edge of the trees the whole way. Hermione put aside thoughts of what had happened, and focused on assessing her current situation first. After all, this could all just be a trick by the Death Eaters, perhaps to find out how many horcruxes they had managed to destroy before Harry...

She shook her head and carried on. The sun was beating down now, sweat gathering on the back of her already filthy neck. Personal hygiene had somewhat fallen by the wayside over the last few months. It wasn’t important then, and it wasn’t important now. She would take Moody’s advice first, constant vigilance. Hermione needed to be one step ahead of whatever was going on here.

The gate of the school was open and the path to Hogsmeade village was empty, but the village itself was a different story altogether. Hermione watched in the distance as crowds moved about in the distance. It would do no good to go in now, but the crowds in themselves fascinated her. It was clear that, wherever she was, there was no war going on. Maybe this was some sort of trick after all.

Keeping in the cover of the forest, she watched for a familiar face, but found none. The people that laughed and talked in the street seemed untroubled by the world as Hermione knew it. Hermione knew that there was a small bookstore at the far end of the village and she skirted around the edge of the trees until it was in sight. There seemed to be a fair number of people still about and so she decided to wait for a while until the crowds disappeared. Only then would she venture further and try to ascertain something, anything, about her surroundings the only way she knew how: through books.

To pass the time, Hermione examined her belongings. The small beaded bag was attached to the belt around her waist, along with her wand. Casting a few sparks onto the ground, Hermione couldn’t help but feel slightly comforted that, whatever form of afterlife or alternate reality she found herself in, at least she still had magic.

In the bag, she found that she had exactly the same items as she remembered. A spare muggle tent, some slightly dirty clothes, Harry’s father’s cloak, a few defence books, a picture of her parents, a hairbrush, some basic toiletries, it all seemed to be there. How strange. She was especially surprised to find a tangled silver chain near the bottom of the bag, attached to the locket that had belonged to Regulus Black. She took the unblemished locket and placed it around her neck, tracing the etching with her fingertips. The pattern spoke to her, not like the evil suggestions of its counterpart but there was a story in the lines and grooves carved by a wizard who had (for all intents and purposes) been her forerunner, telling of his efforts to bring down Voldemort. They had failed: both Regulus and herself.

As the afternoon wore on, the crowds began to disappear, giving way to only a few shoppers, milling about and looking in the windows of the various different stores. Hermione placed the locket around her neck and tucked it into her jumper, unwilling for it to be seen by anyone else. Now that the village seemed quieter, she crept towards the bookshop, trying to attract as little attention as possible, with her travelling cloak pulled around her despite the heat. She slipped in the door quietly and managed to avoid other customers and whoever was working on the desk, as she followed the faded signs for the history section

If there was one thing Hermione knew how to do, it was extract information from books. The history of magic was a subject so boring that only she would ever remember the many seemingly-useless facts that would now enable her to establish a clearer picture of where exactly she was. As she flicked through several books, cross referencing what she read with her memories of class and her own reading in Hogwarts, she concluded that what the books contained was, to her knowledge correct.

This left her with three options, she thought, rubbing her temples. Either she was inside the world of some Death Eater who had a fantastic knowledge of magical history (that was the least likely option), or she may be dead and recalling the facts in the books from her own subconscious, or she was in an alternate reality. The whole issue made her head spin, as Hermione looked around the books she had surrounded herself with.

An apologetic voice cut through her musings. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to close the shop now.’

Hermione gathered her belongings carefully, cursing her own clumsiness and haste as the man stopped her from falling. She shouldn’t make contact with these people... projections... things...

Which is exactly why she shouldn’t have done what she did next. She look up and, in awe that her mind, or anyone else’s could come up with such detail in creating a mere projection, placed her palm against the side of the man’s face. She could even feel the heat off his skin and the feeling of his breath on her wrist.

For the first time, Hermione turned her eyes to his. Her mother had always said that the eyes were windows to the soul and Hermione had always been able to tell more about someone from their eyes than their posture and their body language. These eyes were full of pent-up emotion, she could see so many feelings conflicting under the current expression of surprise and curiosity reflected in bright amber.

Amber...

With something akin to horror, Hermione realised that she had seen the eyes of this ‘projection’ before, in the same face, but aged by several years. She had never seen any pictures of him in his youth, but Hermione knew exactly who stood in front of her.

/-/

**August 1982**

For one Remus John Lupin today was just another day of monotony. His morning had been ordinary. He had risen, went about getting ready and come to work absent-mindedly dreaming of the day when he could do better than a part time assistant in Finder’s Books.

But it had been many moons since the end of the war. Any hope that remained in him was swiftly quelled by doubt and self-loathing. This was his lot now, and he deserved it.

The afternoon passed much in the same fashion as the morning. At least until twenty-three minutes to four. That was the exact time (Remus had noted) that the young woman in the strange clothes had slipped in the door. She went unnoticed by the few customers still mulling about, but Remus had only caught a glimpse before she had disappeared somewhere between the shelves. It was now almost five o’clock and she still had not yet returned.

‘You alright to close, Lupin?’ The way Henry Stevenson asked the question made it clear that it wasn’t a question at all. Remus simply nodded and began to extinguish the lamps with his wand.

As owner of the shop, Henry worked a four day week and the days he was in he arrived late in the morning and left early at night. It was always left up to Remus and the other part time employees to lock up, which could take anywhere between a minute and an hour depending on the amount of customers still in the shop.

What was even more frustrating was that the man had been the year below Remus at school. The Ravenclaw boy had been a shrewd investor in this store after the previous owners sold up with the threat of war, but while he had been making investments, Remus had been fighting and losing friends. It was that, more than his age, that annoyed Remus but what was even worse was the way Henry treated him. A law had been passed after the defeat of Voldemort, requiring all ‘dangerous creatures’ to make themselves known to the Ministry. Now the whole world knew what he was, and Stevenson used it as an excuse to offer him lower pay and poorer working conditions on account of the fact that, for a few days every month, Remus required leave. But Stevenson had been the only one who would hire him after the news broke of new laws. They claimed to ‘protect’ the sufferer, but Remus knew that the leave granted and the fixed rate of pay which was supposed to help people like him made them less attractive candidates for employment. It was becoming harder and harder to get a job and he would just have to bite his tongue and get on with it.

Don’t I know it, Remus thought as he angrily flicked his wand at one of the remaining lights.

Eventually, he found the girl huddled among the history section, surrounded by various books and today’s Prophet. His initial assessment had been right, her clothes were strange. They weren’t fashionable at all, just some plain blue jeans and a strange hooded black jumper.

Aside from her clothes, her appearance was grubby. Her hair was pulled back off her face, and Remus could see the tell tale signs of grease at the roots. The bags under her eyes indicated that she hadn’t slept for several days, he was well familiar with such signs. But even under that, he could see that she was beautiful. Her lips were full and red as she pulled the lower one between her teeth, apparently a nervous habit. He could pick out the freckles that dotted her cheekbones and her nose and the blush that graced her cheeks due to the heat. She was absolutely absorbed in one of the books that she had surrounded herself with and Remus chuckled at her enthusiasm, although he knew her treatment of the books was sure to incur the wrath of certain people.

Fleetingly he wondered where she had come from. It was strange these days to come across someone in the magical community who wasn’t easily recognisable. The girl looked Hogwarts age and yet Remus didn’t know her, even though he was perhaps only a few years older than her. Maybe he just didn’t recognise her, many families had started to pull their children out of Hogwarts towards the end of his time there. Some had even started to send them abroad for their schooling, a trend accelerated by the rise of the Death Eaters here in Britain.

But that didn’t explain her unkempt appearance. From the way she kept brushing her hair back from her face Remus could tell that it wasn’t the length she preferred. He had a hard time imagining that she was as she appeared through any choice of her own. He of all people knew what it was like to...

But no, she wasn’t like him. His instinct would tell him if she was. She was just a girl, one obviously affected by the war and the resulting hardships of the last few months.

‘I’m sorry, but I have to close the shop now.’

He felt loath to throw her out and the slightest twinge of guilt as she jumped a little, startled by his voice. Her cheeks darkened slightly as she hastened to gather her paper and a small, beaded bag from the floor as Remus charmed the books back to their shelves. The girl avoided eye contact the whole time, rushing to be out of the situation as soon as possible. Was it possible she was uncomfortable? Had she heard all about the werewolf who worked in the small book shop?

She stood up, but stumbled. Remus caught her arm and held her up. Wide, toffee coloured eyes shot up to meet his, startled.

Before he could react further, the girl had brought one of her small, but surprisingly strong, hands up to rest on the side of his face. Remus was shocked, it was so rare for anyone to initiate physical contact with him. The last time he remembered receiving a hug had been over a year ago now. But this girl defied all logic as she started into his face with confused eyes.

As if coming to her senses, her hand suddenly dropped. ‘I’m sorry, I...’ And then she was gone.

Locking up the shop, Remus dismissed her from his mind. The strange girl had invaded his life for only a few seconds before she had left and he highly doubted that he would ever see her again.

Nevertheless, as he made his way home that night, he could not get her image out of his head. There had been something sad in the way she looked. For whatever reason it was obvious that, just like him, she was an outcast. She was probably alone too and, for that reason, if she ever came into the shop again Remus would make an effort to talk to her. No one deserved to be alone.


	3. Like I Don't Belong

She had run from the shop as fast as her legs would carry her. Even though she had managed to pick herself up initially when she found herself here, the images she was confronted with were choking her. Hermione raised her wand and threw the door open in front of her, disappearing with a loud crack as soon as she was outside. She clutched her arms around her stomach as her knees hit hard stone, the sobs coming uncontrollably now.

No, it wasn’t possible, Remus was dead. She had seen his body, she had even checked for his pulse herself when they had brought him in. He was gone, along with Tonks and Fred. And Harry, she didn’t dare think about Harry.

She tried to catch a shuddering breath against the wind which battered her face. She had always been the logical one, but now she felt like that was all falling apart. Her logic couldn’t help her in a world where she walked among ghosts, unsure of where she was or how she came to be there. She didn’t even know where she was now.

Hermione looked around her in a panic. The stone under her was the main feature of her surroundings. There was very little grass or life around her, but the stone gave way to a small cave beside her. She had seen this place before, when Sirius had been hiding during the Triwizard Tournament. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She dragged herself off her knees and forced herself to go through the well practiced rituals of securing a location. She did it without thought, allowing her mind to run over the question that plagued her. Where am I?

She needed a plan. She was well protected here, she knew that, but the next step was unknown. When she was at Hogwarts, Hermione had been someone who lived her life off lists and organization, now she was at a complete loss. Harry had always come up with the plans and she had gone about implementing them, now she had nothing except a cave and whatever she happened to have in her bag.

Setting said bag on the floor she summoned the muggle tent and erected it inside the cave. It wasn’t as big or as well equipped as the one they had borrowed from Mr Weasley, but it would do for shelter, just to keep out the cold and damp of the surrounding stone.

Logically, the next step for Hermione was cleaning up. Being on the run didn’t afford such luxuries as showers, but Hermione was sure that she had a plastic basin somewhere in the bag. She set it down on the floor away from the tent and muttered, ‘engorgio’. The basin grew to the size of a bath tub, indeed that was its purpose now, as Hermione flicked through one of her books looking for the right spell.

‘Aquis’ had the tub filling with clean water, while a quick heating charm warmed the water.

Hermione checked that her wards and charms were still in place before grabbing her small case of toiletries from inside the clutch. The air inside the cave was cold, and so she used her wand to spark one of the blue flames that she knew the boys loved. They had been so helpful before, while they were on the run, a way to keep warm and provide light without fuel.

Satisfied that everything was in place, Hermione stripped off her filthy clothes and climbed into the water. After weeks upon weeks of being sweaty and covered in mud, this was bliss. Hermione scrubbed at her skin, watching the patches of brown fade to a light peach, and then turn slightly pink from the friction. She was almost sick, watching the clear water turn darker by the minute, until eventually, she decided that she would have to change the water and start over again.

This time, the clear water was almost instantly polluted with bubbles, as Hermione worked shampoo through her hair. She dreaded to think what it looked like in its current condition and found grim satisfaction that she hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

Changing the water again, Hermione rinsed the last of the bubbles from herself, before stepping out and drying herself with a quick charm. It was only then that she considered the possibility of having no clean clothes left in which to dress. Fortunately, she found clean underwear and a pair of shorts of her own, as well as a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey which must have belonged to one of the boys. She pulled it on and rolled up the sleeves, before fastening a slightly dingy robe over the top.

The next step was obtaining food and some basic supplies and so, with her last remaining twenty muggle pounds and her wand, Hermione disapparated to the one place she knew would be open at this time of night.

/-/

Hermione could remember the chain-store shop at the end of her street well into her childhood. But before that, her mother always told her, ‘The Corner Shop’ had stayed open every night until ten in the hope of drumming up a little extra income for the family-run business.

Finding it was easy and Hermione gazed up at the sign in wonder. No Death Eater could possibly know about the existence of such a place, and that struck that option of her situation off her list permanently.

The place wasn’t terribly big, after all it was only three narrow aisles, and there seemed to only be one other customer, an old woman debating over different types of cat food. At least that cut out the possibility of seeing Hermione’s parents.

She walked the whole way around the shop first, just calculating how much she could buy with her limited supply. Apparently her mother had been right when she had talked about things being a lot cheaper ‘back in the day’. If this was ‘back in the day’...

On her second circuit around the shop Hermione began to add things to her basket and check her mental calculations were correct. With twenty pounds she managed to buy a box of washing powder, a deodorant, a toothpaste, two large bags of pasta (‘Brand New!’), two tins of tomato puree, a few slices of cooked chicken, and a bottle of milk. She knew it wouldn’t last long, but Hermione hoped that it would be enough for the next few days, until she figured out what she was going to do.

She approached the til and handed over the items, suddenly thanking Merlin that her money was in coins and not in notes. She wasn’t even sure if notes were supposed to exist yet.

The friendly middle-aged man behind the counter eyed her apparel speculatively. ‘You a student then, miss?’

‘Um... yes.’ Hermione supposed that that was a reasonable explanation for how she was dressed. ‘Just getting the essentials, you know.’

The man chuckled. ‘Well miss, they aren’t much in the way of essentials.’

Hermione blushed and handed over the money, muttering, ‘It’s all I can afford at the moment.’

‘Well, now,’ the man said, putting the money in the drawer and turning away from her for just a moment, ‘can’t have a pretty young woman like yourself wasting away, can we?’ He added a few apples and oranges to her bags. ‘Free of charge, miss, just for yourself.’

‘I... Thank-you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.’

The man simply smiled and sent her on her way, warning her not to linger too long on the street now it was dark.

/-/

When she awoke in the morning, Hermione felt physically much better than she had in months. Emotionally and intellectually, she was still in turmoil. She fought her way out of her blanket and washed in the large tub once again. It felt so good to be clean, but she was careful to use the very smallest amount of product that she could, they wouldn’t last forever.

Neither would the food. On return to the cave last night, Hermione had eaten a handful of the pasta with some of the puree and chicken. She had also drank a little of the milk. Her meagre supplies looked severely depleted in the light of the next morning.

Last night she had also cleaned all of her clothes before sleep and so this morning she was able to dress in a pair of jeans and one of her own t-shirts.

After an orange and a swig of milk for breakfast, Hermione knew she had procrastinated enough. She needed to find out what was going on.

Or did she? Did it really matter what her reality was? If she wasn’t being controlled by a Death Eater, which she had now put out of her mind, then she was here for some reason. As to what the reason was, she didn’t know, but she had a feeling it lay with the curse she couldn’t remember.

She needed to research, and for that she would need access to books. There were two options. One, she could go to the castle and ask Dumbledore (who she assumed was still alive here) to use the library. However, in the aftermath of a guerrilla war, Hermione could imagine that trying to explain that she may possibly be from the future might not go down too well.

Option number two was that she could break into the Ministry. She had done it before, when security was undoubtedly higher than it would be now. But then she had had two accomplices and if she were caught she would have the same problem as with Hogwarts.

That left her only one option and she wasn’t sure it was any better. She could haunt the bookstore in Hogsmeade. Remus hadn’t seemed to mind last night, but therein lay the problem. Even though he didn’t know her (yet... maybe... depending on where she was), option three would bring her into contact with a man she was well acquainted who apparently didn’t know her. If she was back in time, then it might affect the future severely. Hermione mentally cursed her father’s love of the Back to the Future films they had watched when she was a child.

Still, the bookstore seemed like the best option. Sealing off her camp with a simple spell causing the rock to mould itself over the entrance to the cave, Hermione apparated to the edge of the village.

/-/

And so another day began. Remus was on the late shift again, as seemed to often be the case, and so he helped himself to breakfast and a walk before getting ready for work. He wondered if he would see the girl again. There was something intriguing about her, she hadn’t shied away from him like most of their kind for a start. It was highly possible that she didn’t know who he was at all. But then, why had she touched him?

It had been an intimate gesture, one he was so unused to now. The look in those wide toffee-coloured eyes had been one of, dare he say it, recognition. But he didn’t know the girl. He decided to let it go and see if she came in today, although he doubted it.

Remus mulled over the issue as he arrived at work to take over from Noah, one of the other part-timers. The man smiled and took off the name badge pinned to hit hat. Remus liked Noah, he was a quiet, hardworking man in his late fifties, close to the verge of retirement. He had lost his last job when the Death Eaters decided to destroy the building and kill the owners, and so he worked a few hours a week at the bookshop now.

No sooner had he walked behind the desk, than Henry redirected him to stock out from boxes. Remus growled inwardly, there was no reason why the manual labour was always left to him; it wasn’t like he was going to bite the customers. He winced over the image and levitated the boxes up to the Magical Theory section on the fourth floor.

The work was backbreaking, even with magic, as Remus had to go up and down the aisles looking for the right place to put each of the new books. His back was beginning to feel the strain of bending down so much when Henry shouted up that he could take his ten minute break now. It was a bit of a joke really, a break without a break room. Luckily, Remus had a place to go and sit that he didn’t think Henry even knew existed. He never came up to this floor unless it was absolutely necessary and never went beyond the shelves closest to the staircase at the front of the shop. Lazy git. But right at the back, partially hidden by overlapping bookshelves, was an alcove around one of the large windows. The wooden ledge below the window served as a very comfortable seat, especially with the pillows that Remus had smuggled up from the ‘waiting area’ on the ground floor.

Turning the corner of the shelves, Remus nearly dropped his wand. There in his seat, looking for all the world as if she belonged there, was the girl from yesterday. She was propped up against the stone wall, holding one of the books he had noticed was missing from the bookshelves he had just filled. It was full of very advanced magical theory and he wondered what she could possibly want with it.

As if sensing his presence, the girl looked up at him and smiled nervously.

‘I see you found my seat,’ Remus commented, internally slapping himself on the forehead when she started to stand. ‘No, I meant... I don’t mind.’ He trailed off pathetically as she watched him cautiously.

She looked different today, he reflected, more put together. Her clothes were clean (as was her hair) but they were still strange, unfashionable. He picked at his own corduroy trousers; it wasn’t like he was an expert.

Her eyes showed the biggest change. They still showed some nervousness, but today they were bright and interested as they took in the form of him standing there. Remus leaned up against a nearby shelf in order to have something to do.

She didn’t say anything, simply regarded him as he ran his hands through his hair nervously. ‘You probably won’t be disturbed up here,’ he said, just for something to do, ‘my manager never comes up here and not many customers ever find it.’

He turned to leave and heard her small voice call out after him. ‘Thank-you.’

He smiled as he made his way back to work.

/-/

The girl managed to sneak out as Remus was ringing up a book for another customer later, but he still saw her leave. He could have sworn that she shot a smile in his direction before she ducked out the door, but he couldn’t be sure.

The next day passed much in the same fashion. Remus was on lock-up (again) but this time, he found the girl browsing the shelves on the fourth floor, where Henry had assigned him more boxes to take care of.

‘If you’re looking for a good introductory book, Spellman’s is quite useful.’ He suggested quietly, after watching her flit up and down the same shelf several times.

‘I’ve already read it, but thank-you,’ she said, gracing him with a small smile. She picked up a large, leather-bound volume and went directly to the back. Apparently she didn’t find what she was looking for in the index, as she put the book back and lifted another.

‘You looking for something specific?’ Remus asked, it was part of his job to try and help, but the reply she gave him made him feel like he was intruding.

‘Yes, but I’m alright, thank-you.’

‘Right, well I’ll just...’ He left her to retrieve another box and when he returned, she had gone.

He worked through until his break and the debated about going to his usual spot. There was something about the girl that put him on edge, he didn’t know how to act around her, and it seemed that she was the same way about him, but she could just have been shy. Everything about her was a contradiction. Even her smell, when she had been close to him earlier, Remus had smelt the very distinctive aroma of blueberries off her. It was so unlike what he had expected, and yet he found it suited her immensely.

As he neared his hiding place, he smelt it again. She was here again today, and this time Remus was determined to speak to her without her shooting him down as she had this morning.


	4. The Sound of Something New

She was on her third day in the bookshop now and was no closer to finding the curse with which she was afflicted or any records of anything similar happening to another magical being. Just after Hermione closed her latest book in a huff she heard a deep chuckle from the man who had just appeared opposite her.

‘You still can’t find what you’re looking for, then?’

Hermione shook her head at the younger version of her former teacher. Instead of standing today, he lowered himself to sit against the bookcases opposite her, and regarded her carefully.

‘I’m Remus, by the way.’ He offered, as he shot her a smile.

Hermione’s mouth responded before her brain could catch up. ‘I know.’ His left eyebrow quirked up and Hermione backtracked quickly, ‘I... your badge...’

‘Oh, right.’ Still smiling, he met her eyes evenly and asked. ‘And you are?’

And this was why coming to the bookshop was a bad idea. Remus was so close to her age that it made her forget who he was and their history. Or future. No matter what was going on, it was clear that here (wherever here was) Remus did not know her. As such, it wasn’t a good idea for him to get to know her.

Oh but how she wished she could talk to him. It would be nice to have someone in this world who she could share that with. But if this was the first conversation of similar ones, then it was simply too dangerous.

‘I... I’m Hermione.’ There was no point in giving him a fake name, she would forget and slip up at some point. So she had gone for the truth, after all who knew if this was real or not.

‘Hermione,’ he smiled, ‘the woman who frequents the bookshop and never buys any books.’

She knew that Remus would understand, but at that moment in time, Hermione really wished he didn’t, that life had been kinder to him. ‘I, um, can’t afford to.’

His smile was knowing, and Hermione felt a rush of empathy on her part. The last year had given her a different perspective on a lot of things. Her fairly comfortable upbringing was only one of them. When they had been pushed for food, as Hermione was now, she had vowed never to complain about who ate the last piece of chocolate ever again.

‘Well, I won’t tell my boss that you’ve been in reading, just make sure he doesn’t catch you.’

Hermione smiled in relief. ‘Thank-you, Remus. I appreciate it.’

He left soon after that, his break apparently over. Hermione lingered only a while longer, after having exhausted a further three books today.

She had not yet come across anything that was even pointing her in the right direction and as much as she tried she could not remember the curse that Dolohov had fired at her. It was infuriating, she reflected as she reappeared at her makeshift camp, she knew nothing and her supplies were rapidly disappearing. Soon she would have to either go hungry or steal. She wasn’t sure which was the better option. Rationally, she knew that it was better to steal than starve, but she had been raised with morals, so much so that she had loathed stealing the last few months with the boys.

A sharp pain radiated across her chest at the thought of them, and Hermione cried herself to sleep once again.

/-/

The fourth day was just as unsuccessful as the last three. What was more, Hermione didn’t see Remus. She had ducked her head around the shelves a few times, but there was no sign of the man. Strange, she thought as she replaced yet another exhausted and unhelpful book. It must be his day off or something.

But there was no sign of Remus for several days. It was Hermione’s seventh day in the bookshop when she eventually saw him again. She retreated up to her hiding place again today, a little surprised when he showed up on his break.

It took only once glance for her to work out why he had been off. This was a Remus she recognised all too well. He gave her his usual lopsided smile as he leaned against the bookcase, but she didn’t miss his slight wince as his back touched the wood. Dark bruise-like bags had formed under his eyes and, even though he had obviously tried to hide it, Hermione caught a glance of a red line down the right side of his neck, just below his collar. She had lost track of the date it was meant to be in this wherever, but it was obvious that there had been a full moon.

It wasn’t even just his physical appearance that concerned her. Despite his smile she could see the haunted quality in his eyes (which had been present, but subdued before) was more pronounced today. Though they were never particularly close in Hermione’s world, she wished she could do something for the man who had already suffered so much throughout his young life.

As they fell into conversation, neither mentioned his absence. Instead Remus asked her how her ‘research’ was going.

‘Not well,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘I can’t find what I’m looking for at all.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Remus offered, ‘but all you can do is keep trying.’

Hermione nodded and changed the subject, asking if he had read a novel which was on the ‘New Publications’ stand at the front of the shop. She had read it in her fourth year at school, and as such was able to pretend that she had heard good reviews of it. The conversation about the merits of magical versus muggle fiction carried them over until it was past the time for Remus to go back to work, but he made no move to return.

Hermione checked her slightly battered watch. ‘Shouldn’t you be back to work by now.’

Remus chuckled, ‘I should but, as it happens, my boss is off today and I finished what was required of me this morning. All I have to do now is lock up at five.’

‘Oh,’ Hermione murmured, there had always been a time limit on their conversations before, and she didn’t know what to do now that Remus was showing no signs of leaving her alone. Not that she really minded but still...

He shifted in his place and winced slightly.

‘Would you like your seat back?’ Hermione blurted out before her brain had caught up.

His eyes widened slightly, but Remus brushed off her offer. ‘It’s alright, just a bit of a sore back.’

Hermione drew her legs up under her, ‘Please, I insist, I can share.’

Remus smiled and lowered himself gingerly into the seat. Hermione pretended to mark her place in the book and fuss with her bag so that she would miss the look of pain on his face as he readjusted his back. Why he was working today was beyond her, it was obvious that he hadn’t had enough time to heal.

‘So what did you think of his last book, then?’ She asked, redirecting his attention.

They passed the rest of the afternoon in such a manner until Remus left to take over the desk from the other employee at four. Hermione lingered on, finishing her research for the day.

/-/

The last few days had been agony for Remus. The full moon had not been particularly stressful this month, but it wasn’t exactly tea and biscuits in the park. After two days of rest he returned to work, knowing that he should listen to the screaming in his back and take longer, but anxious to see Hermione.

Hermione, he knew her name now, the strange girl in the strange clothes. During their conversation that day he came to several conclusions about her.

The first was that she wasn’t as young as he had imagined, they were probably around the same age, though he had no recollection of her from Hogwarts, perhaps she had gone to school on the continent. The second was that she wasn’t ‘strange’, she was simply a woman who wasn’t very well off and had been probably been affected by the wizarding economic slump that had accompanied the years of guerrilla warfare. She said she couldn’t afford books, and Remus wondered how on earth she was getting by without a job. At least, he assumed that she had no income due to the frequency of her visits to the shop.

The third thing he learnt was that, despite her apparent shyness, she was incredibly interesting to talk to. It was refreshing, talking to someone who was not only intelligent but who wasn’t looking at him with a huge sign over his head proclaiming him a social leper. But the fourth matter complicated all the rest. Remus found himself incredibly attracted to the woman. She felt no need for makeup or perfume but presented herself simply and let her natural radiance shine through. Although Remus doubted that was her purpose, as notoriously shy as she was, he could not help but find it amusing that she had no idea of her beauty. He had recognised it from the first time he saw her but the more time he spent with her the more he noticed about her that he found attractive. Like the lip thing. Every time she did it all Remus wanted to do was replace her teeth with his, to taste the flesh that she kept biting into.

But she was complicated. There was something about this woman that Remus did not know, that she would not show him. He understood that perfectly, and was eternally grateful to whatever powers may be that she never commented on his absence. It was almost inconceivable that she hadn’t noticed, and yet she did not pry into his affairs as she debated literature with him and let him share her seat by the window. He had left that night more confused about Hermione than he had been that morning. She was a series of contradictions, and he found that he wanted very much to discover everything he could about her.

/-/

The next day Henry was in a bad mood. Remus kept his head down and got on with his work cataloguing books on the first floor in the afternoon and thought it best if he didn’t mention to his boss that he had forgotten his break. Henry left early, at half past three, leaving Remus alone with a shop full of customers. As much as he kept glancing up stairs, he knew he couldn’t leave the desk now.

It was only a few minutes before closing time before Remus was able to close the front door. No sooner had he done so, than he turned to find Hermione watching him from the foot of the stairs. He felt instantly guilty for not seeing her today, her face was slightly disappointed. Maybe it was his imagination, there was no way she could look forward to their chats as much as he did.

‘I... I just wanted to say goodnight.’ She said, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to chat today, my boss didn’t give me a break.’

Hermione shrugged, and her ponytail swished slightly. ‘You’re working; I shouldn’t bother you so much.’

‘You don’t,’ he replied honestly. ‘Tell you what, I was about to grab something in the pub for dinner, would you like to join me?’

‘I... I, um, left my money behind, and I can’t really...’

‘I can pay,’ Remus offered, ‘it’s really no trouble, I always order too much for myself anyway, so really you’ll only be eating what I already pay for.’

Hermione opened her mouth at the exact same moment as her stomach rumbled loudly. Her face reddened as Remus snickered quietly.

‘That settles it, come on.’ He let Hermione pass in front of him before he warded the door for the night. ‘Now, let’s get some food.’

The Three Broomsticks wasn’t exactly packed but there were several tables already filled as Remus led Hermione to a small booth near the back of the room. He may have told a little lie to get her here, he hadn’t exactly budgeted for a dinner out this month but he was sure that he would be able to afford it, albeit at the expense of a book he had wanted to buy. But Hermione looked like she could use a decent meal for once and it was a small price to pay for some extra time in her company.

However, as a silent Hermione glanced around the bar, he wondered if perhaps he had overstepped the mark. ‘Are you alright, Hermione?’

She jumped a little at being addressed, and muttered ‘Oh, yes, I’m fine’. Remus surveyed her as she quickly hid her face behind her menu. He chuckled and she lowered it to raise her eyebrow at him. He wanted to tell her to relax, but didn’t quite know how to go about it without offending her.

‘The steak here is pretty good,’ he suggested, ‘unless you’d rather have salad, but somehow I don’t take you for a salad type of girl.’

It was Hermione’s turn to regard him, passing Remus the menu. ‘Whatever you’re having is fine.’

He left her to go and order at the bar. As he waited for their drinks, Remus noted the way her eyes flicked around the room, never staying in one place too long. Rosmerta passed the tray and he made his way back to the still nervous looking woman waiting on him.

She raised her eyebrows at the pot of tea and two cups that Remus sat down in front of her. ‘I’ve never been much of a one for alcohol.’

‘Neither have I,’ she shrugged and accepted the cup he offered her with a smile.

He doubted their reasons were the same. Remus’s body had an exceptionally low tolerance for the stuff and he would be almost completely drunk after only one glass of wine and remain so long after any other man had sobered up. Yet another curse of being bitten as a child.

The arrival of the food gave the girl opposite him another chance to delay conversation, as Remus evenly split the seasoned pork cubes and potato wedges between the two plates. Hermione dug into her meal ravenously and Remus felt better about his decision to buy her dinner.

Remus didn’t comment on it, his parents had taught him better, but instead changed the subject on conversation completely. ‘I was thinking, earlier, about how you couldn’t find the right book. Maybe I could help you, I know the Headmaster of Hogwarts very well, I could ask Dumbledore to let you use the Hogwarts library. If you wanted, I mean.’

‘I... I’ll think about it, thank-you. For dinner as well.’ Her answering smile was full of gratitude and Remus returned it gladly. It seemed to him that Hermione was in desperate need of a friend right now and if he could just keep his mind off his sometimes less-than-gentlemanly assessments of her figure, then he could be that friend for her.

‘You’re welcome, just let me know and I’ll send an owl right away.’

They finished the meal quietly, but the silence no longer hung over their heads like a bad omen. Instead, Remus felt comfortable not having to fill every gap with mindless chatter. As he walked Hermione out of the pub later, he offered to escort her home, but didn’t press too hard when she refused. The world was a relatively safe place now, and she probably didn’t know him well enough to accept his offer. Instead, he settled for an awkward but friendly wave, wishing that he had plucked up the courage to at least kiss her cheek.


	5. Another Turning Point

She should have known that accepting his offer of dinner was a bad idea, Hermione mused the next day. She was (once again) holed up in the hiding spot she now shared with Remus and could not concentrate on the book she was meant to be scanning for clues.

At several points yesterday she had almost slipped and called him ‘professor’. Especially when he smile and the corner of his eyes crinkled the same way that Hermione remembered. What was even more frustrating was that it was only a several points that Hermione could see the man she knew. Oh he was the same man alright, his youth had long been taken away by his curse, but he was not the man who was weighed down by his accelerated age that had taught her at school. This version of Remus was so different and it confused her.

His hair wasn’t marked by the same streaks of grey she had always known, the ones that seemed to grow every time she saw him in her own world. Instead it was sandy blonde and longer than she ever remembered seeing it. She knew that the cut was meant to allow his hair to part in the middle, but Hermione watched as Remus constantly pulled it out of shape by running his hands through his hair to push the longest strands out of his amber eyes. She didn’t even think he realised that he was doing it.

There was a remarkable difference is his body and posture too. He was still thin, but there was a layer of muscle concealed beneath his skin that Hermione imagined had disappeared over time due to the constraint of limited resources and the strain of monthly transformations. But now, he was broad shouldered and well-defined. He held himself differently, she had noted last night. He carried a weight but was not yet being crushed by it.

And that was another very noticeable change. At twenty-two his face was unmarred by his curse. The scars that Hermione expected to see when she looked at him were absent so far and, instead, she found herself noting eyelashes that were absolutely wasted on a man and lips that were the most enticing shade of pink. The light dusting of stubble that graced his face prevented him from looking too young and Hermione found it enhanced his features rather than marred them. And his eyes. Eyes that held familiar depth and sadness but also a light Hermione had never seen before. It was reflected in his personality, he was much more open with her than she had ever seen the older Remus with anyone. Time and trials had made him even more wary of the world than he was now, a year after one of the worst events of his life.

But the aspect of Remus which remained the most familiar was his unconditional kindness. Although she had at first been reluctant to form contact with Albus Dumbledore, Hermione was beginning to believe that there might not be another option. The book shop was not working out, she hadn’t been able to find anything that might help her and she was now without food and other basic supplies. Hermione reckoned that she had three day’s worth of deodorant left at the most in addition to having no food. Maybe in Hogwarts she would be able to take advantage of some of the schools other facilities, like the bathrooms, but that might lead to questioning about why she couldn’t use her own house. Maybe she could convince Dumbledore to let her stay, but that may require telling him why she was here. However, it would allow her to pick the man’s brains about what the curse might have been. She was grateful that Remus was willing to help her get into Hogwarts.

She was still undecided when she saw Remus on his break that afternoon. Today he came and sat beside her on the seat, querying what she was reading and asking it was any use to her. They passed his break by slating the book, A Guide to Unusual Charms.

‘I still don’t see how the confundus charm is unusual, it’s very well known.’

‘Maybe, but it can have unusual results,’ Remus defended, ‘once Ja... one of the boys from school convinced one of his friends he was a flowerpot.’

She didn’t mention his slip and neither did he. Instead Remus asked her if she had thought any more about using the Hogwarts library. In truth, Hermione was aware that another reason she was still mulling the possibility over in her head was the thought that she might not see Remus again if she went to Hogwarts. She didn’t care if he was a projection, she liked talking to him. In fact, she reasoned as he went back to work, he may be the only thing keeping her sane right now.

She was still mulling the issue over when she heard footsteps approaching. She wondered if Remus had managed to sneak away for another break until a man she vaguely recognised as his manager appeared around the shelf.

He was a little shorter than Remus, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. His work robes were obviously tailored and screamed of wealth and importance, Hermione found them to be a little too much for a man who owned a shop. He eyed her with suspicion and looked down at the open book in her lap.

‘Are you going to pay for that?’

‘I... I forgot my purse...’

‘You can save the crap, you’ve been in here a few times and never bought anything. I don’t like loiterers in my shop.’

Hermione scrambled to her feet as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down the stairs after him. She had just managed to grab her bag and she attached it to her belt as she pulled her wand out from her sleeve.

‘Let go of me!’ She hissed, pointing her wand at him. Instead, the odious man pushed her down the three stairs remaining before the next floor. Her reflexes kicked in and she landed on one foot, swivelling to face her opponent before raising her wand level with his chest.

‘Lupin!’ He yelled, and Hermione heard Remus run up the staircase behind her. ‘Escort her from the building, now!’

Hermione narrowed her eyes and lowered her wand. ‘Don’t worry, I’m going.’ She brushed past Remus and he followed her to the front door. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, aware that they were probably still being watched.

‘Come back at five,’ he whispered back as he pretended to see her out the door, ‘please.’

Hermione nodded discreetly before she disapparated, hoping that Remus wouldn’t get in trouble because of her.

/-/

At five o’clock on the dot, Hermione waited outside the shop for Remus. She tried to stay away from the other shoppers, but she had to suppress a shiver when she saw a tall blonde woman carrying a toddler with white-blonde hair. Narcissa Malfoy looked the same here as she did in Hermione’s world, even her facial expression was the same as she passed a witch who was apparently a muggle-born.

She waited as Remus locked the front door before approaching him.

‘Remus, I’m so sorry...’

He cut her off, ‘It’s alright, Stevenson’s an ass anyway.’ He smiled and passed her a piece of parchment. ‘I wrote to Dumbledore for you, we’re both invited up to the castle for dinner tonight, but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I overstepped.’

Hermione was speechless at his gesture. ‘No, you didn’t, thank-you.’

Remus gestured towards the castle at the end of the road. ‘Shall we?’ Hermione stepped in beside him and let Remus guide her way to the castle. On the walk she tried to keep up conversation with him and fabricate a believable history for herself at the same time.

While Remus had never asked her anything personal, she had a feeling that Dumbledore was going to be the opposite. The man would never be rude enough to ask outright anything which would seem offensive, but he had always had a way of extracting information you didn’t necessarily want him to know. So she tried to think of a past for herself. She needed a surname, so she went with her mother’s maiden name, hoping it would be easy to remember. Obviously she couldn’t say she had been to Hogwarts, so she would claim that she had attended the Gaelic Magical Institute in Ireland. Furthermore, to explain why she was supposedly living in the Hog’s Head, Hermione would claim that her parents were now dead as the result of a car crash. She hated to lie, but hopefully she would be able to construct something that was simple and believable. She kept pace with Remus up the long drive, filling in some of the finer details of her plan while still managing to chat.

The castle loomed in front of her, and Remus opened the front doors with a muttered spell, before leading Hermione up the staircase to the Headmaster’s office. Although she knew where they were going, Hermione kept in step behind him, letting Remus guide her. When they reached the stone gargoyle who guarded the office Remus moved him aside with a simple ‘Pear drops’ and allowed Hermione to proceed up the spiral case before him. She emerged in a room that she had been in several times, but glanced around in wonder at the detail of the room in the wherever. Everything was the same, even the man now rising from his desk to greet them.

‘Ah, Remus, good to see you,’ he said, shaking his hand.

His crinkled blue eyes turned to her next. ‘And you must be Hermione.’

/-/

Remus knew that Hermione was nervous. On the outside, she still appeared to be and extremely shy young woman, but Remus had seen her spark as she stared down Henry in the shop that afternoon. It made him wonder. Her stance was poised; not like a professional dueller, but of someone who had fought many less refined opponents and won. It may simply have been a result of her schooling, as Hermione Payden (as that was apparently her surname) revealed to Dumbledore that she had attended school in Ireland.

‘Interesting,’ the Headmaster commented, as he showed them to the dining table set up in one of the room’s various alcoves. ‘And it was instructive, I assume, Miss Payden?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she blushed as Remus held a seat out for her and he smiled. ‘Though, we focused more on the practical side of magic than I believe Hogwarts does.’

‘Indeed,’ Dumbledore commented. ‘And what of the war, Miss Payden, how did that affect your studies?’

‘Honestly sir?’ she asked, as Dumbledore charmed the jug to pour them all some pumpkin juice, ‘It didn’t affect the studies of most students, but it did for me. I had many friends here in Britain and I returned home several times. Even though I am muggle born, I was worried about them the whole time I was away. Which is why I find myself in need of the use of your library now, I’m afraid my theoretical knowledge isn’t up to what it should be if I am to find a job now that I have left school.’

‘But you have your HAREs?’

‘HAREs?’ Remus asked confused, he had never heard of them before.

‘Hiberno Advanced Relative Examinations,’ Hermione explained, ‘you call them NEWTs. I never sat them. There were... complications and I never got the chance.’ She took a deep breath, and Remus noticed her hand shake a little where she rested it on the table. ‘My parents...’ She didn’t need to finish her sentence, Remus had seen that look on far too many faces in the last few years.

‘I’m very sorry,’ Dumbledore offered. Remus stiffened in his chair, he hadn’t known that she was parentless, although he may have inferred it from her lack of money. He barely had time to process the information before Dumbledore was speaking again.

‘Well, Miss Payden, you are more than welcome to use any of the facilities that you require. Obviously when classes start back in September, you will have to share the library, but we will deal with that when the time comes. Now, dig in before the heating charms run out.’ He gestured to the plates of roast beef dinner in front of them.

Over dinner, Dumbledore turned his attention to Remus, inquiring how his job was going and asking if he had had any news from any of their ‘old friends’ in the Order.

‘No, just the usual.’ Remus replied, trying to keep it casual so as not to alert Hermione to the private nature of their conversation.

‘Hmm, that’s good. Miss Payden, may I inquire, where are you staying while you are visiting us?’ there was barely a pause between the two different topics.

‘I’ve been staying in the Hog’s Head, sir.’

Remus stared at Hermione. A young woman staying alone in the Hog’s Head was not a good idea, especially if she seemed to be spending all her resources on the squalid accommodation. Dumbledore seemed to have the same idea.

‘Oh, well, that won’t do. You can’t keep wasting money on such things when we can easily provide accommodation for you. We would be happy to have you here, my dear, but I think that that would rather upset you, having to move twice since the students are due back next week. However, I’m sure that Remus would be more than happy to have you stay with him for a while.’

Remus choked on his mashed potatoes. ‘Sorry, pardon?’

Dumbledore smiled at him, seemingly amused. ‘I was saying that Miss Payden might be able to stay with you, Remus, instead of wasting money on such arrangements.’

‘I don’t think...’ The older man was staring over his glasses at Remus the way he used to do to Sirius and James. Remus barely had time to process the pang of familiarity and hurt before he realised that an answer was required of him, and only one possible answer would be satisfactory. ‘That sounds perfectly doable,’ he said, titling his head to regard the woman beside him. ‘What do you think, Hermione?’

She blushed at being addressed, and Remus refrained from chuckling. He found it endearing, but he knew better than to comment on her nervous habit. ‘I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,’ she muttered, playing with her goblet rather than looking at him. ‘I’m sure you have better... I mean, I don’t want to be a burden.’

‘You wouldn’t be,’ he said, ‘besides, the Headmaster is right, it doesn’t make sense for you to squander your money on lodgings when you could stay with friends.’

She regarded him quietly, blushing further when Remus smiled back at her. ‘Then, thank-you, Remus. That would be most helpful.’

There was something very formal in her phrasing, like she was trying to retain a distance between them, even though Remus had just opened his home to her. He wondered if it was simply an attempt to appear polite in front of Dumbledore. She’ll probably try to refuse as soon as we leave.

The meal finished, Remus thanked Dumbledore and prepared to leave. Hermione followed suit immediately, thanking the Professor and commenting that she was sure to see him around. Remus wasn’t all that sure; there had been rumours amongst the surviving remnants of the Order than the man was still tracking down those Death Eaters who had managed to evade the Ministry. Even in term time he wasn’t around as much as he would previously had been when Remus was at school.

The pair walked out of the castle together and Remus knew that Hermione was biting her tongue. ‘Just say it,’ he eventually sighed as they reached the gates.

She looked at him with confusion. ‘Say what?’

‘I can hear the cogs turning, you’re trying to find a polite way to turn down my invitation.’

‘It wasn’t your invitation,’ she muttered before clapping a hand over her mouth, looking horrified.

Remus almost snorted. ‘No, it wasn’t because you don’t know me that well, so I would never presume to do something like that for fear it would make you uncomfortable. Apparently Albus Dumbledore has no such qualms, the meddlesome old codger.’

That got her to smile, Remus reflected. ‘I’m sorry, that was rude, Remus. I really don’t want to be a burden...’

‘Nonsense,’ he said airily, waving a hand. ‘You won’t be. Besides, I’m sure you’ll finish your studying and find a job in no time.’ They were entering the village now, and Remus veered towards the pub. ‘Why don’t you go and collect your things and I’ll wait outside.’

Hermione smiled shyly at him, as was her way, and entered the door alone, while Remus stood outside to wait.


	6. Standing at a Distance

‘Oh, stuff and bother!’ Hermione muttered to herself as she quickly darted into the stinking bathroom of the pub to disapparate. She had never expected either man to suggest what she had now agreed to. ‘This is a bad idea, Hermione,’ she muttered to herself as she reappeared at the cave entrance. She dashed around, packing up the few bits and pieces she had left lying around, various toiletries and the like.

Remus was waiting back at the pub and so she scrambled to ensure that she had everything stuffed in her bag before transporting herself back with a soft pop. She was sure that her cheeks were ruby red as she rejoined him at the door, but Remus simply extended her arm for him to hold as she disapparated once again.

Hermione stumbled a little when they arrived at their destination, but Remus kept a firm grip on her arm. She righted herself and muttered an apology before taking a look at where Remus had brought her. In front of her was a Tudor-style two-story house, complete with dull red brick and white panelling. The house stood on the edge of a wooded area and gardens stretched out in front and behind it, Hermione could even make out a body of water out the back. It was the only house in sight, and Hermione was in awe, but on closer inspection she could see some flaws too.

While the house was beautiful, it was obviously in need of some repairs. The white panels were stained with moss and rain and were in desperate need of a coat of paint. The garden was overgrown and only the path to the peeling front door seemed to be clear of weeds. Hermione tried to piece together information that she knew in her world. She knew that Remus had lost his parents at a young age, just before the war had begun. She knew that they had left him their house, and that he had always considered that a blessing due to his meagre income as a young man, that he didn’t have rent or a mortgage.

Her heart sank as he led her to the front door. She hadn’t considered that, money. She had nothing to offer Remus in way of payment for food or anything and, although she knew he would never admit it, he couldn’t afford to keep her here for too long. A niggling voice in her head added the thought that she shouldn’t be here too long anyway. She still didn’t know where she was, and getting closer to Remus wasn’t a good idea, despite her apparent inability to keep away. She forced herself to smile and listen as he apologised for the state of the house. She was still extremely grateful, and didn’t want him to think otherwise.

Remus unwarded the front door, and Hermione kept a careful note of how he did so, before leading her into the hall. He kicked his shoes off and banished them to the cupboard under the stairs and Hermione copied him, following him into the living room on the left. The hall had had a wooden floor, but this room had rich, moss green carpeting which felt comforting under Hermione’s feet. The walls were painted cream and one wall was lined entirely with bookshelves. She gazed in wonder as Remus chuckled at her.

‘I had a feeling you would like the books,’ he said, smiling. ‘Why don’t I give you a tour of the rest of the house?’

She followed him into the kitchen and dining room which had been on the right as they entered the front door before following Remus upstairs. He indicated the bathroom at the end of the hall before showing her the bedroom which would be hers. Hermione noted that he did not mention the other rooms but his meaning was clear in the silence. Stay out.

‘This will be your room. I hope it’s alright, Hermione.’

‘It’s great,’ she replied, taking in the room. ‘Thank-you again for letting me stay.’

‘It’s not a problem.’ Remus smiled at her reassuringly and Hermione felt guilty for taking advantage of his kindness. ‘What time do you plan on leaving for Hogwarts in the morning? If you don’t mind me asking.’

‘Probably about eight or so,’ Hermione replied, setting her clutch down on the bed. Remus was standing awkwardly in the threshold, like he didn’t want to invade the space that had been designated as hers. ‘I like to get started early in the morning.’

Remus nodded, ‘I’ll prepare breakfast a little earlier then.’

‘No!’ Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself, ‘Sorry, but I never take breakfast, so there’s no need to trouble yourself.’

‘Alright. If you’re sure...’

‘I am.’ Hermione smiled to try and make her argument seem less... rude. There really was no other word for it, she thought with remorse. ‘I don’t like that you’re obligated to look after me because of Dumbledore.’

Remus regarded her with a curious expression. ‘It’s no trouble. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night then, Hermione. What time should I expect you back at?’

‘Er... I’m not sure, I’ll owl you.’

Remus nodded and bid Hermione goodnight, leaving her to wallow in guilt for her abruptness to the man who had shown her nothing but kindness. Why had she agreed to this?

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The nest morning, Hermione made sure that she was up and out of the house before Remus awoke. She didn’t need his life to be any more disturbed by her presence than it already was. Today was Thursday and on Monday, it would be September and Hogwarts would once again be filled with students. However, Hermione wasn’t too bothered by that fact. She was good at making herself invisible and anyway, she doubted that many students would want to use the library straight after returning from their holidays.

The library welcomed her with the smell of old books and the sense of familiarity. Hermione smiled as she made her way through the aisles to the desk. She snatched a scrap of parchment and a quill from the librarian’s station and spent her morning compiling a list of the books she thought could be of use to her. By the time she was finished, it was one o’clock and her stomach was rumbling.

As loath as she was to break her principles, Hermione headed towards the kitchens. Dumbledore had said that she was welcome to use any facility but she was more than capable of making her own sandwich rather than bothering the houselves, whom she assumed would be frantically preparing for the returning students. She should have known it wouldn’t be that simple, she frowned as she was given a seat at one of the tables and practically force-fed gammon and roast potatoes. She wolfed the dinner down quickly, uttering her thanks as the elves all smiled and blushed at her praise. It did little to ease the guilt, no matter how satisfied her stomach might be.

But maybe there was some merit to taking advantage of the magical aspects of the castle, Hermione mused as her feet automatically carried her on a route she knew well.

I need some basic essentials. I need some basic essentials. I need some basic essentials.

A glass panelled door appeared in front of Hermione. She sent a silent thanks to the magic of the school as she opened the door to find a closet-like space. The room was no bigger than a broom cupboard, but on the floor was a leather trunk not all that different from the one she had previously used for school. Inside of it, Hermione found, were some toiletries like the ones she had bought in the muggle shop as well as various bits of clothing. All of the clothes were simple but appropriate for the time; she knew that jeans and plain coloured t-shirts and shirts could blend in well here.

There was also a brown leather satchel and Hermione pulled it out to examine it, finding that it had been enchanted with the same charms as her beaded bag that she had relied on so heavily. Her little bag was getting a bit worn out and didn’t really fit in in this world, so Hermione transferred all of her belongings into it with a quick charm and threw the purse into the trunk as well.

Hermione smiled upon finding the notebook and pens near the top of the trunk before minimising it and stuffing it into her new bag. She headed back to the library to start her more intensive research on how she came to be here.

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While the days that he had seen Hermione in work always seemed to go quickly for Remus, today was crawling by at a snail’s pace. He had woken up this morning to find that the woman had already left and had received an owl at work just after his break to inform him that she had been invited to dinner with the headmaster and would be returning late. When she had accepted the offer of a place to stay Remus had hoped that he would be able to spend more time with her, not less.

Then again, she had seemed to want to spend as little time in the house as possible. Remus assumed that it wasn’t a case of simply avoiding him, as she had never seemed particularly opposed to that before. Maybe being in a house with just him made her nervous. He didn’t know, but his attraction to the beautiful young woman was growing every time he saw her, he just wished that she would open up to him.

And she might, in time, but that would require them actually spending time together. Instead, Hermione was throwing herself headlong into her studies. Remus admired her enthusiasm but he couldn’t help but wonder exactly why she wasn’t studying for the HARE exams which were farmiliar to her instead of the NEWTs sat by Hogwarts students. While he had to admit that he didn’t know much about the HARE qualifications, Remus couldn’t imagine that they would be much of a disadvantage. He knew of several Irish witches and wizards who had joined the ministry in the last few years, apparently it was a growing trend.

Business was slow that afternoon, which did little to stop Remus wondering more about Hermione. She was so reserved and, as far as he was aware, she had no other friends that she was in contact with. But then... Something played on the back of his mind. She had told Dumbledore that she had returned during the war to look out for her friends. He wondered what had happened to them but realised that he probably already knew the answer to that question.

His third customer of the day approached the desk and Remus forced himself to focus on the task at hand. In the back of his mind, however, he made a note to ask her about it somehow.

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Remus didn’t see Hermione that night and she was gone before he had woken up the next day. His day passed in a similar fashion to Thursday, but when he returned home on Friday night it was to find that Hermione was flitting about the kitchen making dinner. He had started to rebuke her gently, informing her that she was a guest, when she had blushed and muttered shyly that it was the least she could do to repay his hospitality. The pasta dish she made was the best home-cooked meal Remus had had in quite a while.

They both retired to the living room after dinner and Remus invited her to take her pick of the books. Her face had lit up, and she had paced up and down the shelves for at least ten minutes before settling on a collection of short stories that Remus had always loved. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Remus plucked up the courage to ask her about her friends in a very round-about fashion.

‘Hermione, I was wondering if I may ask you something.’

She said nothing, but nodded her head, her curls bouncing slightly.

‘The first day I saw you, in the book store. Who did you think I was?’

She looked stunned by the question. Perhaps he had been too intrusive.

‘I mean, I just... it seemed like you thought you knew me. Did you have me confused with someone?’

Hermione stared at her hands, twisting them in her lap. ‘You look very much like a friend of mine. He, um, he died... killed by Death Eaters.’

Remus inwardly berated himself. He moved from where he sat in the armchair opposite her to beside her on the sofa. He laid a hand on her shoulder and whispered quietly. ‘I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’ He took a deep breath before spilling out, ‘I really am sorry. I lost friends in the war too, it’s not something I would wish on anyone.’

Hermione raised her hand to squeeze his and smiled at him with sad eyes. ‘I understand.’

Such a simple phrase, but as she said it, Remus pondered that there was one thing he did not understand at all: her.

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The weekend passed quickly for Remus, Hermione was out of the house a lot and he spent the time on various repairs and cleaning tasks. He knew that he had been neglecting the house for some time before his unexpected guest had arrived, but having her there spurred him into action. Saturday was spent cleaning the wooden panelling before he tackled the overgrown garden on Sunday morning.

Thank Merlin for magic, Remus thought as he collapsed into a chair early on Sunday evening. Even with some wandwork it had been a long process but the front garden was now presentable. He thought about starting the back garden, but it was getting late. He decided to leave it to next weekend, at least he did until Hermione returned for the night and offered to help.

In a matter of hours they had transformed the formerly riotous foliage into something much more beautiful. The stream that ran through the garden was now uncovered and the weeds had been cleared, making room for the sweeping lawn. There was no fence around the garden, but it was enclosed on all sides by trees, creating a natural boundary.

They had worked together in relative silence, but through various short pieces of conversation Remus felt like he was learning more about the quiet woman. She was a great admirer of nature and had an extraordinarily quick wit, upon his pondering about what to do with an old tree stump a bit away from the edge of the trees she had called it his ‘expostulation seat’ and had gone on to quote some muggle poetry. She was clearly intelligent and a remarkable spell-caster, it was hinted at before but, from watching her perform spells, Remus could see the natural but still well nurtured ability she had for magic. But there was an even more important revelation he came to as he observed her discreetly.

Every few seconds her eyes could dart around her, scanning the area. He had noticed it before, when they were having dinner in the Three Broomsticks, but now Remus realised what it really meant. It wasn’t just the look of someone who had fought but the look of someone being hunted. He had seen it on the faces of friends during the war and he still caught himself doing it occasionally even now. While he wasn’t ignorant enough to think that he had completely recovered from his experiences (and, indeed, he doubted that he ever would be) he saw that Hermione still moved and observed as if she was expecting conflict. Somehow it explained a lot about her.

Briefly, Remus wondered if he ought to talk to her about the war, but he wasn’t sure if either of them was ready for that. Every time they came anywhere near the topic he could almost see the shields go up and her. She was keeping her distance, but he understood why. He had talked to no one expect Dumbledore since he had lost all of his friends in one fell swoop and did not relish reliving the most painful memories of his short life. For now, he would simply be a friend to Hermione and see if she brought up the subject first. But for some reason, Remus couldn’t help feel that he was skirting the issue that might finally clear the air around the reserved witch with eyes too old for her age.


	7. What It’s Like To Be You

The next few weeks in the wherever passed in a flurry for Hermione. In the morning she would get up early, get washed and dressed and leave for the day. Between the time she arrived at eight and the time she left almost twelve hours later Hermione left the library only to eat lunch and dinner with the rest of the school (at Dumbledore’s absolute insistence) and to use the bathroom. The number of books she had still to read was dwindling and yet she still had no clue as to where she was or how she got there and her patience was wearing thin.

Her evenings of the course of the three weeks she had been staying with Remus passed in much the same fashion. He knew she now stayed at the castle for dinner so when she returned they would sit in the living room reading or conversing lightly. It was a comfortable atmosphere and she felt herself warming even more to the young man who so willingly showed her kindness and respect. The guilt over her imposition was still there when she was alone, but Remus never made her feel like she was a burden. Until the inevitable happened.

At the end of September Hermione recognised the lie for what it was straight away. Remus had told her that he had to go and visit a sick relative in Wales for a few days and she did the mental calculations. She knew exactly where he was going but she bit her tongue. It wouldn’t do for him to find out that she knew his secret, had known all along. Instead, she offered to vacate the house for a few days while he was away, but Remus would not hear of it.

She hated the thought of him cooped up in the Shrieking Shack by himself and on the night of the full moon as he was preparing to ‘travel’ Hermione almost told him that she knew. The only reason she did not was that she still wasn’t sure what world she found herself in. _I must not interefere!_ She bit her tongue once again and watched him disappear from sight.

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That night, Hermione found that she couldn’t sleep. She knew that Remus had undergone the transformation many times before, but she still could not put her mind at rest. Instead of sitting around wallowing she tried to distract her brain by tidying. She made her way around the entire bottom floor of the house and even managed to process all of the laundry from the ever growing pile in the corner of the kitchen before she made her way up the stairs.

Since arriving in the house, she still had not ventured into the rooms Remus had neglected to show her on her first night. Out of respect for her host, she left those rooms alone but it did not stop her wandering into his bedroom.

Overall, she was shocked at the tidiness of the room. When she had ventured into the boys’ dormitories at school they had always looked like a bomb had just exploded, but Remus’s room was perfectly organised. Hermione took a minute to look over the cream walls and carpet and the dark blue double bed. There was a large pine wardrobe which matched the desk and chair on the opposite side of the room. Hermione approached the desk curiously. On top of it a few photographs were scattered about in frames made of various different materials. One picture showed Remus aged eighteen between his parents at his graduation from Hogwarts. He smiled and waved shyly at the camera while both parents beamed with pride. She felt a stab of sympathy as she remembered Sirius once telling her that they had died not long after Remus had left school. Greyback had hunted them down once the war had started underground.

Another photograph showed Remus as a small child learning to ride a broom, but the one that held Hermione’s attention was the largest photo on the desk.

She recognised the context immediately from photos she had seen that belonged to Harry. The four smiling men in tuxedos were laughing amongst one another as the groom still smiled giddily. Hermione felt tears on her cheeks as she took in the sight of James Potter on his wedding day. Harry had not remembered him, or his mother Lily, who invaded the photograph after a minute to keep the men in check. The couple were so obviously in love, and Hermione felt sick to her stomach remembering that, to Remus, their death was still fresh in his mind.

Lily was quickly pushed out of the photograph by a laughing Sirius. He looked so much younger than Hermione remembered him, just like Remus. His unlined face was so full of life and energy but Hermione knew that that was currently being drained from him under the influence of the Dementors. Silently, she replaced the photograph, trying to avoid the image of the man who had betrayed them all but she kept her eyes on the image of Remus in the frame.

When she had met him in the wherever, Hermione had been struck to how different he seemed to in her world. Now, looking at the photo, she considered the possibility that the version of Remus she knew here was still hiding the pain and loss that plagued him in her world. She knew that he was keeping himself afloat financially because not that many people knew about his lycanthropy, but she wondered when that would change and he would become the weary man that she had known.

She did not want that for him, and knowing his destiny haunted her as she tried to sleep that night, her ears still listening for the distant howl of the wolf. She couldn’t imagine what it was like for him, but she vowed to try and make the next few days just a little easier for him.

How she managed to sleep, Hermione did not know, but when she woke (fully-clothed) the next day it was to the sound of the door closing downstairs. Immediately she jumped out of bed and made to go downstairs, to see if Remus was alright but as she heard the string of growled profanities she knew that that would be impossible. If Remus found out that she knew... she dreaded to think. As quietly as she could manage, Hermione placed a silencing charm on her door and grabbed her bag before apparating to Hogwarts. She spent the rest of the day trying to read and wallowing in guilt that her only friend in this world was suffering and she had done nothing to help.

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That night Remus was in his room when she returned. A hastily scribbled note left on the bottom stair explained that he had spent all night awake with his sick relative and apologised for not being a better host. Only Remus would think such a thing.

Hermione felt pained at her inability to do anything about his suffering but more so about her lies. She understood why Remus lied to her, but it made her question her own motivations for lying to him. He had been so understanding when she had spoken to him of what was his own death. Of course he hadn’t known that that was what she was describing, but with there was a depth and a sincerity in that statement that Hermione had never experienced before. In just two words Remus had managed to express his empathy for her without pity. Whether he was aware of it or not, he had managed to say ‘I know, I’ve been there’.

Even as she headed out to Hogwarts for yet another day of research, Hermione wrestled with the idea of telling Remus the truth. She fought the idea of even considering it, until I know what’s going on, then I’ll think about it.

But her research was winding down, and Hermione was increasingly aware that she was running out of options.

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There were no words to describe the agony that Remus faced on the night of the full moon. It took him a week to recover, one whole week of lying to his guest and trying to hide his injuries from her. The day after he returned, Hermione had accidentally knocked him in the ribs with a book she had been carrying. The whimper that followed had surely alerted her that something was wrong, but Remus had tried to play it off as an injury from lifting too many books manually in work. Somehow, he got the impression that she didn’t completely believe him.

Despite the week of recovery, Remus found that he fell back into schedule with Hermione extremely easily. True, he didn’t see much of her, but he noticed that she started to return at earlier times of the evening as the days went on until, halfway through October, she arrived back when he had just taken his first mouthful of dinner.

He would ask her how her research was going and she would tell him that it was nearly done, but he always thought that she sounded frustrated by that fact rather than cheered. They rarely talked of anything too personal, but Remus learned more about the young woman by simply talking superficially and observing her in her habits. After exactly five minutes of reading a book, Hermione would start to twirl one of her curls around her right index finger, stopping only when she needed to turn the page. He found it endearing, though when he pointed it out to her, she blushed and dropped her hand into her lap immediately.

She was driving him crazy, not only with her reserved nature and her silence on any personal details, but also with her presence. She grew more and more attractive to him every day and Remus found himself completely enamoured by her. And that was when it started, the overwhelming guilt ay lying to her about who he was.

Remus had never received any indication from Hermione of attraction on her part, but even if there had been, he thought, pursuing such a path would be reckless and irresponsible. Not only had he lied to her, something he doubted that she would be quick to forgive if ever she happened upon the truth, but he would never be able to give her a normal relationship. It was simply too dangerous.

And not just physically. Yes, of course there would be a risk to the young woman for being in a relationship with a man who turned into a monster every month, but it would be too dangerous to her future. It was obvious that the studious Hermione wanted a good career, being involved with a social pariah made her one also by default. He wouldn’t be able to take her out on dates, would never be able to go anywhere with her in public. Remus was resigned to his life as an outcast and he refused to bring anyone else into his miserable little world. She could work her way out of her situation, he could not.

However, as he studied the woman nodding off in front of the fire, Remus realised that as grand as his plan sounded in theory, he doubted very much that he would have the strength to stay away from Hermione. For a start, that would mean all but kicking her out of the house and Remus had better manners and a better conscious than to do so.

The book she was reading fell out of her lap and on to the rug with a muffled thump. Remus smiled as he noted that Hermione had finally fallen asleep. Her head titled slightly to the left, onto the back of the sofa on which she sat and the light from the fire danced across her high cheekbones. Asleep she looked like an angel, and too good for Remus. But, as he discovered to his detriment, that did not stop his feelings for her.

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October was passing quickly for Remus, but every day closer to the thirty-first day of the month lay heavily on his chest. Before he knew what had happened to the time, it was the evening of the thirtieth and he was wrapped up in his evening routine of a book in front of the fire. It was only a few days after the latest full moon, and once again Hermione had seemingly accepted his lie about sick relatives. His body was still recovering and Remus flinched as he set a tray of tea down in front of Hermione.

Although it was not their usual protocol, she shifted her legs from where they were curled under her and allowed Remus to sit beside her on the sofa, as she had done in the bookstore. Remus smiled wearily and took up the seat beside her. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, having abandoned the quidditch jersey she had been wearing that afternoon with the heat of the fire.

‘Did you hurt yourself at work again?’ Hermione’s soft voice asked him, her had resting tentatively between his shoulder blades. Remus nodded silently. ‘Turn around,’ she asked quietly.

Remus obliged and felt her small hands pulling his jumper off his back. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt to keep his scars hidden from her, wary of what on earth the woman thought she was doing when he felt her gently kneed at the tense muscles between his shoulders. Remus groaned and she stopped instantly.

‘I’m so sorry, I’ve hurt you...’

‘No,’ Remus said hastily, ‘no, you didn’t. Please, continue, if you don’t mind...’ he trailed off, well aware that this was some new development in their friendship. The feel of her warm hands on him both relaxed him and sent his mind into overdrive. His thoughts were a welcome distraction from the morose musing of earlier that evening and his dread of the following day, but this was new and dangerous territory, and Remus found himself completely at a loss. He had tried to be a friend to the obviously vulnerable young woman, but his thoughts of her body so close to his now were taking a line rather at odds with that friendship. He moaned as her hands reached an especially sensitive spot near the base of his spine and Hermione breathed softly against his ear for him to relax, as she trailed one of her hands reassuringly down the side of his neck. For Remus the gesture felt so intimate that he wondered if she might possibly feel the tension between them that he did. When she stopped and he turned to face her, her eyes were dark and clouded.

‘Hermione,’ he whispered and moved closer to her lips, but the young witch leaned slowly away. She looked so utterly and heartbreakingly beautiful in that moment, and Remus realised something vitally important. She was unsure, of herself, of him, of everything it seemed. ‘What do you want from me?’ he asked honestly, reaching up to cup her face with his hand. ‘What is it you want?’

Her lower lip trembled before she wrenched herself from his grip and ran out of the room. Remus shouted her name just as he heard the front door slam closed. The quidditch jersey she had had on earlier still lay on the arm of the sofa and Remus lifted it, wanting to feel some connection to her.

He was so used to the sight of the Gryffindor kit while he was at school that it had not occurred to him that Hermione had no reason to own one until he spotted the name on the back. Potter.

Remus felt like someone had punched him in the gut, and he sat down on the sofa once again, trembling. It wasn’t possible, how had Hermione got hold of this shirt? The clock on the mantle chimed midnight and Remus directed his attention to the changing date on his enchanted calendar.

31 October 1982.


	8. A Short Way To Fall From Grace

In the Hogwarts library, Hermione hid amongst the stacks of History of Magic books.

She had run. Remus had tried to kiss her and she had bolted without explanation or apology. Hermione had, in effect, alienated her only friend in this world. She tried to keep the sobs at bay, as she considered his question ‘What do you want from me?’

In truth, she didn’t know. For the last few weeks she had been mostly content in this world. The need to find out what was going on was, of course, still present but having Remus to talk to made it bearable. Hermione was blinded by the view of the man she had once known and hadn’t noticed his attraction to her until it was too late. But the worst thing of all (if she was being brutally honest with herself) was that Hermione now realised that it was very much reciprocated. The electric spark she had felt when she had unwittingly turned an act of comfort into one of intimacy and familiarity.

It felt wrong, in a way. She had lied to him about who she was, and when Hermione had looked at him before, the older Professor Lupin figure that she knew cast a shadow over the man she knew here as Remus. She didn’t see that now, Hermione had thought him handsome from the moment she first saw him here, but the shadow made it feel like a betrayal of her former friend. A friend, she realised with absolute dread was now gone.

She wished she had let him kiss her, but she didn’t know what sort of tenuous grip she held on this world. She needed to figure out where she was and what she could do about it before she did anything stupid, like going back to Remus and begging him to forgive her. It might take her days, or weeks, but Hermione owed it to Remus to find out what this world was before considering her next move. Even then, she would have to answer his second question.

What is it you want?

‘What I... What I want!’ Hermione whispered aloud, and suddenly her mind was transported elsewhere, she should have realised all along. Hermione flew down the corridors, almost knocking over a suit of armour on the third floor. He shook his fist at her, but Hermione paid him no heed.

I need a book explaining the curse that sent me here, open at the right page and waiting for me to read and understand completely.

It was a mouthful, but she repeated exactly what she wanted twice more, before a door appeared, golden and covered in etched symbols. Hermione recognised the runes for earth and time, but didn’t stop to read them, rushing towards the book that would explain her existence in this world.

The Room of Requirement was truly a unique room each time it was used. Before the battle it acted as a sort of store room for all the clutter and junk of hundreds of students who had passed through the school. Including Tom Riddle, she remembered with a shudder. Now, it was barely bigger than a broom cupboard really, containing only a desk and chair, but the wall facing Hermione was decorated by one of the most intricate pieces of art she had ever seen.

The stained glass window was unlike Hermione remembered from the Muggle churches she had visited in her youth. They had been all straight lines, slightly muted colours and blocky script. They had been made by the hands of men but this window had been made by magic. The edges were curved intricately, creating an effect that Hermione likened to the crashing of waves or the swirling of a hurricane. The colours were so shocking bright that they bathed the small room in an array of blue and orange hues as the winter sunlight streamed through the glass. It was so intricate and unlike anything Hermione had ever seen before that she did not realise what the window depicted for several moments.

The top half of the window showed a wand-bearing figure surrounded by an orange glow. The figure itself was relatively small in comparison to what appeared to be the wall of water that it raised its wand against. In the image, the water crashed against some invisible barrier as the colours and images moved as magical art was want to do. There was no inscription explaining the image but the bottom half of the window was a different story.

Here, an apparently different figure stood surrounded by the same orange light, arranged in a moving spiral. In front of the figure, two twisting and interlocking paths ran, moving like the staircases of the castle and as Hermione watched in fascination cursive script appeared in the orange spirals. _Alternate path, new prophecy, Geminus Terra._

The image of the paths shone onto the desk and Hermione directed her attention away from the window and onto the two books which lay open there. Hermione sat down in the chair and swiftly began reading the first.

_One of the most disputed forms of time travel is the supposed Geminus terra curse. There has only ever been one reported use of this curse, from a wizard named George D. Marty in 1856. Marty told the ministry that he had been sent back from fifty years in the future and proceeded to predict the results of Quidditch matches correctly. However, having no way to determine if Marty was a time traveller or simply a seer seeking fame, the Ministry kept the case quiet due to Marty’s unstable disposition that eventually saw him admitted to St Mungo’s for a year only a few months after his claim. He went on to publish his memoirs in 1905 aged 86, read by few and believed by even less._

Hermione’s eyes widened, Marty was dead by now, but as she looked at the other, thinner book she realised that she had the next best thing: his memoirs. This must have been the original copy, before it fell into the hands of the editors and the shop keepers. If the book really sold as poorly as the larger volume claimed, then she doubted that there were many of even those copies left in existence. The paper in the leather bound notebook was slightly yellowed and the writing was a curved slant. With a start she realised that it was exactly the same handwriting that the window had replicated. She started at the top of the page and read.

_Few believe me that the curse is real, but I tell you this, it is unlike any other form of time travel. The rules for the future are not the same._

_It was my downfall that I attempted to contact my parents while in this time. My father had always been an unstable man, prone to periods of darkness of thought. When I contacted him and told him what had happened he couldn’t take it and turned his wand on himself. I waited to disappear myself, as I no longer had cause to exist in my own time, but I remained. My actions changed the future, but did not alter the existence of my own person! Through my own tragedy I had solved one of the oldest mysteries of time travel._

_Only the traveller himself is set in this world, and the moment he crosses the chasm from one world into a former one, he creates what the muggles misunderstand as a parallel world. While Slake’s Theory of Magical Cohesion states that parallel worlds are not possible, one must then assume the following: The future is not set!_

_My actions here have changed the future without changing my person. I know when things are coming and I can stop them, the Great Flood of Cornwall in 1901 never happened in this reality. With one action I saved the lives of two hundred muggles_

_Having lived in Cornwall all of my pervious life I believe that this is the reason I was sent back, but perhaps I am mistaken, perhaps the reason I was sent back was to prepare this paper for someone else, someone who will perform great deeds with the power I have shown them._

_There is still, undoubtedly, very serious dangers to those who meddle with time for personal gain, but for those who seek to serve a greater good there is real potential._

_But of course, there is no way to prove this, only an old man’s claims. Many will not believe, but those who do know the truth._

/-/

Hermione sat, reading and rereading the pages over and over. What did this all mean? It was not mentioned but Hermione knew now that there was no known way to return home. The thought saddened her, but over the last few days and weeks in this world she had considered the possibility of really existing in an alternate world, among the other possibilities leading to her experience. What did she have left in her world? Her best friend was dead, the world was destroyed by war, her parents did not know she existed. Was it really better to return to that world? The thought of never returning, however, still felt like a knife in her chest. Could she really give up all hope of her normal life? What would she do here in 1982?

She needed to talk to Dumbledore. As much as she wanted to tell Remus what she had discovered, Hermione thought that it would probably be a wiser idea to go to the headmaster first and seek his advice about what she should do. If, according to Marty’s experiences, only the traveller remained constant, then she couldn’t see the harm in asking Dumbledore what to do. She carefully placed the books into her bag and left.

When Hermione emerged from the room, she noticed that the sun had set. She did not think that she had been at Hogwarts for that length of time, but headed down to dinner to ask for an audience with the headmaster. As she approached she could hear the students in the hall and she fought back tears of her own memories of this place with Harry and Ron by her side. She might never see them again. Hermione slipped in through the doors quietly but stood aghast at the sight which greeted her.

The room was decorated in oranges and blacks. Pumpkin lanterns decorated the tables while swarms of napkins enchanted in the shapes of bats whirled overhead. From across the room, Albus Dumbledore met her eyes and raised an eyebrow at Hermione’s presence. She wasn’t meant to be here. She had lost track of the days while he studied and searched, she hadn’t seen the changing of the months the way she should have.

Today was Hallowe’en. It was on this day ago that Voldemort had been defeated and Hermione knew the cost of that day acutely, she had seen Harry suffer with it. But he had been eleven when he found out. While it still hurt, he had distance and time on his side to enable him to process. Remus did not. For him it was exactly one year since he had lost his three best friends in one day, although he was mistaken about the intentions and the fate of two of them

She still needed to process what she had discovered about the Geminus terra curse, but Hermione knew that it would have to wait. Remus had been nothing but kind to her since she arrived and she had picked the worst possible time to throw it back in his face. She took off towards the school gates at a quick jog.

/-/

A few short weeks ago Remus had lamented the routine of his life but today he would have given anything for the return of that routine. He had spent the night sitting on the living room floor, staring at the jersey he held in his hands. How the hell had Hermione come about it?

It was only when the sun rose that Remus looked away from the name emblazoned on red and gold stripes. He thought of all the people who would be celebrating this day and felt sick to his stomach. For him this wasn’t a day of celebration. Without moving he summoned the picture from his bedroom desk and set it on the coffee table in front of him along with the jersey. He scowled at the boy with the long raven-black hair before summoning a bottle of firewhisky and three tumblers from the kitchen. He set the glasses beside the picture and poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into each, nursing his own in his hands.

He swirled the liquid in the glass, but did not drink it. Instead, he pondered over the mystery of the jersey, trying to distract himself slightly from the misery which accompanied this day. When he had thought about the approach of the anniversary, Remus had planned to go and visit the graves and once again go and plead with Dumbledore to let him see his friends’ son. Now that the day was here, all he wanted to do was wallow in grief and confusion. He hadn’t counted that into his plans, the arrival of the woman who (until now) had seemed so disconnected from his past.

But she had known James, that much was obvious from the jersey. Why she had chosen to wear in on that day he had no idea. Was she remembering someone who she had known? Was she even aware that he and James had been friends? They had never mentioned it in previous conversation, and Remus doubted that she was the type of woman who would flaunt that type of thing. Maybe he didn’t know her at all.

He spent the afternoon in silent contemplation of the photograph, battling with his grief and the growing anger that welled up inside of him for the traitor who laughed happily with the men who had been his friends.

/-/

The firewhiskey that remained in his glass seemed to be taunting him but Remus had learned from experience that crawling into a bottle wasn’t an efficient way to cope. The sun had set and the only time he had moved that day was to throw the rest of the bottle onto the fire to remove the temptation. It was soon after he had finished doing so that he heard the front door open and tentative footsteps make their way into the room.

Even with his back to the door, Remus knew it was Hermione. Even though it was not the full moon having heightened senses was one of the effects of his condition. Even from where he sat on the floor he could smell the blueberry shampoo he had grown so fond of.

She said nothing as she approached, simply came and sat on the floor next to Remus. He did nothing to hide the picture from her, there was no need. Remus felt her hand curl around his as she lifted away his near empty glass and placed it next to the two full ones on the table.

‘I didn’t realise what date it was.’ She murmured quietly. Remus said nothing, but continued to stare at the image of his friends. ‘I never would have...’

Remus didn’t want her to finish that sentence right now. He couldn’t think about her pity for him, there were more pressing issues weighing on his mind as of this moment. ‘Where did you get the jersey?’ She looked confused. Remus picked up the item from the table and passed it to her, name facing up. ‘James’s quidditch uniform, where did you get it?’

Remus watched as the coloured drained from the young witch’s face. She removed her hand from his and traced her fingers reverently over the letters. She closed her eyes and held the fabric up to her face, only then did Remus see the tears starting to make their way down her cheeks.

‘It didn’t belong to James,’ she whispered, her eyes meeting his with a look filled with intense grief. ‘It belonged to Harry. It belonged to James and Lily’s son.’


	9. Still Frames in Your Mind

When she arrived to find Remus slumped in front of the fire holding an empty glass, Hermione didn’t know what her course of action should be. She hadn’t wanted to reveal her secret tonight, but when Remus asked her about Harry’s quidditch kit she realised that she had no choice. She had been stupid to wear it, she hadn’t even remembered that the uniforms were marked with the player’s name, but the surname between the shoulders and the captain’s badge on the left breast were exactly the same as the image of Harry’s father which still laughed in a cabinet in the trophy room in Hermione’s world. It seemed only natural from Remus to assume that the shirt had belonged to James. So, not knowing how to hide it from him or wishing to lie any further, Hermione had gone against the voice in her head shouting at her to think about her actions and she had told Remus the truth.

The look of shock in his eyes startled her and Hermione found that she couldn’t stop the information now rolling off her tongue.

‘I’m not who you think I am. I didn’t go to school in Ireland, I went to Hogwarts. Well, I will go to Hogwarts. I... I’m not from this time... There was a battle and I got hit with a very rare curse. I just, sort of, ended up here and I didn’t know how. That’s why I’ve been reading so many books, I was trying to find out what happened, to find a way back, but now, I think I’m stuck here, and I don’t know what to do...’

‘What are you saying?’ Remus asked, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

‘I... I’m from the future. I was hit by a time-travelling curse that only one other person is ever known to have experienced.’ He looked sceptical so Hermione added (knowing full well that she would regret it), ‘and I can prove it.’

‘How?’ Remus challenged, but Hermione was relieved to note that he did not seem overly hostile or disbelieving, he was just doing the same thing she had seen him do many times before: he was reserving judgement until he had heard the whole story.

‘I know things that I shouldn’t,’ she said, ‘I know that you were in the Order of the Phoenix, I know that your three best friends were animagi,’ Remus looked dumbstruck, ‘I know that the Potters’ secret keeper was Sirius...’

‘Don’t use his name!’ Remus hissed, his eyes narrowing.

Hermione understood his feelings, after all she had been there when the truth had come to light twelve years after Sirius had gone to Azkaban. But she wasn’t about to reveal that now, the issue of her knowledge of the future was still unresolved. She needed time to think before she decided what to do with it, but she knew that there was one thing she could tell Remus to make him believe her, something which she was certain less than half a dozen people still living knew about him.

‘I know you weren’t in Wales,’ she whispered, keeping her eyes trained on his, ‘you were in the Shrieking Shack and I know why.’

His eyes narrowed, obviously sensing danger to his secret. It was so different from the last time Hermione had had this conversation ‘I won’t deny that I am a werewolf’.

‘Dumbledore told you, didn’t he?’ Remus half-growled. Hermione wasn’t scared of him, she knew that Remus would never do anything to hurt her, even as angry as she could see he was.

‘No, it wasn’t Dumbledore and it wasn’t Snape or any of the Marauders either,’ he looked shocked that she knew that little bit of information. ‘You told me, in the future, in my world. You asked me who I thought you were the first day you saw me and I lied to you. I knew you were Remus John Lupin, you were just a younger version of the man I knew. That was the first day I spent here, the fact that I saw you... it made me think that maybe I wasn’t going quite as crazy as I thought.’

Remus placed his fingers on his temples and exhaled deeply. ‘All this time... You’ve known all this time that I’m a monster?’

Hermione pulled his hands away from his face. ‘You are not a monster,’ she said gently, trying to control her own anger at such a distorted view. ‘You are one of the kindest, most sincere people I have ever met.’

Remus scoffed, but Hermione ignored him and continued. ‘I’ve seen the man you become, Remus. I’ve seen him and I am telling you that you are not and never will be the “monster” you think you are.’

She didn’t want to say any more, to reveal any more about the future. Anything she said could have consequences. She tried to distract him by going back to their original topic of conversation.

‘In my world, Harry is one of my best friends.’ She said, and Remus snapped his gaze back to her, his curiosity apparently overriding his anger and whatever mistrust he might feel. ‘He looks just like James, except for his green eyes. He’s kind and smart. Si... People say that he’s as good a quidditch player as James was. He’s brave, too, he...’ Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and continued, ‘he saved my life more than once.’

‘You miss him.’ Remus said. It was clearly a statement and not a question, but Hermione nodded anyway. ‘You should go and talk to Dumbledore, try to find a way to get home.’

Hermione was shocked. ‘You believe me?’

Remus nodded. ‘I always knew that you were hiding something, I just didn’t know what it was.’ He didn’t comment further on the subject, but returned his gaze to the photograph Hermione had seen in his bedroom before.

She leaned her head on his shoulder gently, fighting that annoying voice that was telling her that it was a bad idea to be so casual with a man she had basically rejected the previous day, who was also dealing with a grief that threatened to overwhelm him. She knew that she could not act on her feelings for him. The way she felt was still new and surprising and there were bigger issues to consider here than her little crush.

She felt his back stiffened a little at the contact, and Hermione murmured softly as she also looked at the four young men in the picture. ‘I know that it’s inadequate, but I’m sorry for your loss, Remus. You can trust me when I say that I know how it feels.’

He looked down at Hermione and she returned the gaze. ‘Do you have someone who...’

Returning her eyes to the image, she pleaded in a soft voice. ‘I can’t answer that question, Remus. I’m asking you not to ask.’

They both sat unmoving and silent for several moments before Remus surprised Hermione by resting his head on top of hers and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She knew that the affectionate action was not meant to be romantic, it was no different from the embraces she shared with Harry, but she couldn’t help but note the heat radiating off Remus and the strength of his arm holding her. Exhausted from the long day and the emotional toll it had taken on her, Hermione couldn’t fight the closing of her eyes as they sat together, surrounded by memories and revelations.

/-/

It had been a confusing and emotionally charged day, and as Remus looked down at the woman sleeping with her head on his shoulder, he had no clue what to do next. When she had told him that she was from the future, he thought that she might be some apparition, here to torture him on what was one of the worst days of his life. The confusion came when he found himself believing her.

She had been right, the things she revealed to him she could only have known if he had told her but she had clammed up when he had asked her about ‘her world’, as she called it. He knew that there was bound to be consequences of revealing such information, but the picture she painted with the few references he noticed was not the one he had fought and lost friends and family for.

She had said that Harry had saved her life and that she had been fighting when she travelled here. A world full of conflict and violence like the one Remus hoped he had left behind. Had what they had fought and died for meant nothing to the next generation?

The next generation. That was a thought in itself, the young woman who he found himself attracted to had grown up with his best friends’ son. The way she talked, it was obvious that she knew him, the older him. He imagined that that was a large part of her rejection last night, she saw him as someone the same age as her parents, the person he was now was eclipsed by the older version of himself. She probably thought he was some sort of disgusting old man. It was a sobering thought, as he held her against him, but one that might change with time. If she had any time left here.

Hermione had not addressed the issue, but Remus thought that she must be anxious to return to her friends and family in her world. She could be gone any day now and he couldn’t go getting himself any more attached than he already was.

His mind was still trying to accept everything he had been told when his eyes closed.

/-/

In the morning, Remus conceded that sleeping on the floor against the sofa had not been the best idea he had ever had. Somehow he awoke on spread out on the rug, while an apparently newly awakened Hermione groaned about her back as she lifted herself off the floor.

When he tried to move, Remus felt his muscles seize up and he collapsed back onto the ground, panting.

‘Remus?’ The concern in her voice was evident as she kneeled next to him.

‘I’m not... recovered yet.’ He gritted out, before realising how easily he had let that piece of information slip now that he was aware that Hermione knew the truth and wasn’t about to run screaming. She nodded grimly and put his arm around her shoulder without another word, helping him off the ground and up to lean against the wall. ‘Sofa.’ He grunted out.

Hermione shook her head, ‘If I let you sit down, we’ll be here all day. You’re going to stand there and I’m going to go and get some potion. Where do you keep it?’

‘Don’t have any, too expensive.’ Remus wheezed out as he gritted his teeth against the pain in his spine.

Hermione cursed in a low voice before disappearing upstairs. She returned, pointing her wand and muttering at two small white things before dropping them into his hand. ‘What are these?’

‘They’re a muggle pain remedy,’ she said, passing him a glass of water. ‘I just amplified them a bit, make them work better. Don’t worry, I’ve done it before.’ Remus took them to appease her, watching the young woman appraise him. ‘I want to go and see Dumbledore today.’

Remus tried to smile. ‘I thought you would, you’re not exactly one for procrastination.’

‘Will you come with me?’

He hadn’t been expecting that. ‘I can, if you want. I mean, the shop’s closed today for the holiday.’

‘I don’t think I can go alone,’ she said ducking her head.

Remus felt the pain from his back begin to dull and he made his way over to where she stood leaning on the door frame. ‘Alright then,’ her answering smile was shy but pleased, ‘but first, I think I need a shower.’

Hermione smirked, ‘Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but...’

He chuckled as she raced up the stairs to get to the bathroom first. The door clicked closed as he shouted after her. ‘Hey, I have a bad back! Have some sympathy.’

He heard her laugh behind the closed door. ‘Liar, those pills will have worked by now. Tough luck, old man!’

He wondered what she meant by the insult.

/-/

The students would have today off class. They both knew this but Remus was not comfortable walking through the halls with them all wandering aimlessly and staring at the ‘intruders’. In addition to this, the male population’s reaction to Hermione set his teeth on edge. He knew that none of the hormone-driven teens knew he could hear them but the comments that were passed about the witch made him want to strangle them. He had also known that he wouldn’t be the only male to find her attractive but hearing it directly from others made him want to wrap his arm around her in a show of possessiveness. But that wouldn’t be right. He very much doubted that Hermione would ever ‘belong’ to any man, she was so reserved yet independent, but he liked that about her.

He gritted his teeth as one of the older students muttered to his friend about taking Hermione into a broom cupboard. Remus glared at them and placed his hand at the small of Hermione’s back, not quite touching, but close enough to ward off the advances of seventeen year olds.

They didn’t talk much as they walked through the school, but Remus found himself sharing little comments with her about his life here. He would point out places, things he remembered doing with his friends, people he remembered seeing passing through. Hermione listened, but remained silent for the most part. She shared nothing of her own life here, though Remus could understand why. It was clear that Hermione was worried about the repercussions of anything she revealed to him.

Remus gave the password for Dumbledore’s office and together they moved to stand in front of the headmaster’s desk as he eyed them both curiously.

He gestured for them to take a seat and insisted that they both try some of the peppermint tea he had just made. They made it through half a cup each and some small talk before he asked with a twinkle in his eye. ‘And what can I do for you both today?’

‘Professor Dumbledore,’ Hermione started with a sigh, ‘I’m afraid that I’ve been deceiving you and I need your help.’

Remus listened as she proceeded to tell the older man everything that she had told him the night before.

‘I see,’ he said, looking over his spectacles at the witch as Remus resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably. ‘And what do you plan to do about it, my dear?’


	10. A Fork Stuck in the Road

Hermione resisted the urge to stare at the man blankly and say ‘huh?’. Instead she blinked and asked, ‘P-professor?’

‘You can’t very well lie under veritaserum, Miss... Hermione, so I am asking you what you want to do about your situation.’ The man was smirking and Hermione understood why he had absolutely insisted that they try some of his tea, even though Hermione was not particularly fond of it.

‘Headmaster, that’s illegal!’ Remus protested, as Hermione tried to make her brain kick back into action. Dumbledore shrugged and Hermione could have sworn that she heard Remus chuckle.

‘Perhaps if you showed me the information you have been looking for, Hermione.’ Dumbledore suggested, and she handed over the two books she had brought with her.

‘That’s it?’ Remus asked, apparently confused, ‘that’s all there is?’

‘It would appear so,’ the headmaster commented, his eyes skimming across the pages rapidly, ‘there was only one other recorded incident and in that case it is obvious that the man never returned to the time in which he had lived, save by surviving through to it again.’

Hermione felt her heart sink. ‘So there is no way back?’

Dumbledore laid down the books and looked over his glasses at her once more. ‘There may be some way,’ he said, obviously trying to phrase his sentiments carefully, ‘but it is obvious that it is not known to any other witch or wizard. However, it would appear that magic wrote Marty out of history when he was cursed so the way back would be extremely complicate, even if you were to find one. Therefore, you must ask yourself, my dear, whether it is worth spending your time dwelling in the past (so to speak) or embracing the alternate path that you have been presented with.’

The alternate path? That had been one of the three phrases that appeared in the stained glass window but Hermione had heard it before that, just before she was transported back here. She had put the old fraud’s words out of her mind, partly because she was an old fraud and partly because, if the prophecy had been genuine, would it not have applied to someone in the future, not the past? She didn’t need the pensive she knew resided in this office to remember the prophecy. ‘Professor, before I was hit by the curse, I was given a prophecy by a seer. Do you think that could still apply even though we’re technically in the past?’

‘You are technically in the past,’ the wizard said, scanning down the books again, ‘according to Mr Marty the traveller is fixed. The words were meant for your future, once you have decided whether your future is here or not.’

‘So, you think that if I chose to stay here, I could alter the future without consequence?’ Hermione asked, becoming increasingly intrigued with the idea.

Dumbledore smiled warily, ‘Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, the muggles got it right. But, if I may say, sometimes the reactions are preferable to what could have been if the action had not occurred. Only you have the power to make those choices, Hermione, but if I may add one warning? Do not act out of personal interest, that seems to be the surest way to go astray.’

/-/

Remus hadn’t spoken since they left the office and, as they made their way down the drive of the school, it was making Hermione nervous. On their way there, he had graced her with little anecdotes of his school days. She noted that he was careful not to include any of Sirius, but talked of Peter highly. It made her feel a little sick.

‘Events are in motion. You will stand alone and together. Old allies and new friends. Personal loss will lead to gain. An alternate path, a new prophecy. It has come...’

The words echoed through her head in the silence. She thought of how different things could be if she revealed the truth. Sure, it was risky and messy, but if she told Dumbledore everything she knew, would it prevent the second war? Would it prevent the deaths of so many?

Not only that, but in acting she could save Sirius and bring Peter Pettigrew to justice. She could give Harry the life he never had because of the danger that followed his every move. She might even be able to help the Weasleys by trying to root out some of the corruption in the ministry and making sure that Lucius Malfoy could no longer hold Arthur back from the promotion he had applied for many times in her world.

But it would mean never returning to ‘her world’. According to Marty, Hermione Granger would no longer exist. She knew that her parents had had trouble conceiving and Hermione wondered if there was any baby Granger in this world, or if magic had simply written her out altogether. Staying here would mean losing her parents, her classmates, her two best friends.

But Harry could live, the voice in the back of her mind prompted her. She could stop Voldemort coming back, stop Harry from having so sacrifice himself. Neither could live while the other survived, but if she managed to bring Voldemort down with the knowledge she had acquired over the last seven years of her life then Harry could live, really live. No more nightmares, no more near-death experiences. They would never be friends the way she had known, but at least Hermione wouldn’t be acting out of personal gain, per se. She could make the world a better place.

As they reached the gate and Remus extended his hand to her for disapparation she recognised another reason to do it. She could make his life better. She couldn’t give him back all that had been taken, but she could tell him the truth and she could give him back one of his best friends. She had seen how happy he had been when Sirius had returned after twelve years in prison and, while she knew it wouldn’t be exactly the same now, perhaps having that one person in his life who didn’t judge him according to factors beyond his control would make a difference. Maybe he wouldn’t become the weary, defeated man she had known.

She followed him into the house automatically, going through the motions of taking her shoes off and following Remus into the kitchen.

‘Remus, are you alright?’ His silence was really getting to her.

‘I’m fi..’ He must have noticed the look on her face and remembered her saying once before that she hated that word. ‘It’s a lot to take in, that’s all. I mean, you’ll be starting more research now and...’

‘Research?’ she asked, and then she understood. Remus thought she was going home. She wondered if that was why he had been so quiet. In that moment she made her decision. It wasn’t as planned out as the others she had made in her life, but being in the heat of battle had taught her to weigh of all her options carefully, concisely and quickly. ‘What if I’ve decided to stay?’ she said quietly.

Remus dropped the mug he was holding and swore loudly as he used his wand to sweep up the pieces. ‘Sorry, I wasn’t expecting...’ he looked her in the eye, and Hermione noted a curious expression. She wasn’t quite sure what it was. ‘You can’t stay, Hermione. I mean, you have a life, friends, family.’

It was now or never, she had to tell him the truth about the world she had left behind. She only hoped that Marty had been right. ‘I know this is starting to become a recurring theme but ... I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Remus. We should really sit for this conversation,’ she said with a nervous little laugh, leading him into the living room. ‘After I tell you this, then you’ll know everything. I’ll answer any questions you want.’

Remus looked bewildered as he all but forced him to sit on the sofa before sitting at the other end, cross-legged and facing him. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ He asked, angling his torso towards her.

Hermione took a deep breath before starting to speak.

/-/

His life just kept getting stranger and stranger, Remus reflected. In the space of only a few months he had befriended a stranger and had her settle into his home, he had mourned the death of loved ones all over again while trying to fight the strange pull the younger witch had over him. It was strange and frightening and exhilarating, but what she told him was the most life-changing of all.

He listened as, still under the truth-telling effects of Dumbledore’s potion, she told him the story of her life as a witch. She told him about her first year at Hogwarts and how she befriended Harry Potter and Arthur and Molly Weasley’s youngest son after they saved her from a troll. She told him about how Severus Snape had saved Harry’s life because of James and how Harry had faced down Voldemort, returned from the dead.

She told him about her second year, the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk. Remus knew that she had been unconscious for part of it, and yet, she told the story as if that was only a minor detail. Her boys came through, she said, and saved her life for the second time.

The next startling revelation was how Hermione had met Remus himself, then aged thirty-three aboard the Hogwarts Express and how he had taught them in a year full of dementors and the threat of Sirius Black. Except that it wasn’t a threat, Sirius was innocent, it was Peter who had been the spy. Remus had leapt from the seat at that, determined to go straight to the Ministry, but Hermione had pulled him back, urging him to listen to the rest of the story before they figured out what to do.

And she used the word ‘we’, whatever she planned on doing, she wanted him to be involved.

She told him about the Triwizard Tournament and the death of Amos Diggory’s son, now only four years old. She told him about Voldemort returning fully and the following gradual takeover of the school and the ministry. She told him about horcruxes and how she, Harry and Ron had hunted them down after Dumbledore’s death at Snape’s hands. But she went on to explain that, too. Remus had always suspected that Snape had feelings for Lily, but he had never guessed their depth. He learned how Snape had helped them and sacrificed his life to help Harry.

And then he learnt of Harry’s death. How the three friends had been fighting together, the last push in bringing down Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They had failed, and now Hermione wanted to stop it all before it ever happened. Including his own death. He had asked her what happened to him during the war and she had stared at the wall blankly while she answered. She wouldn’t not tell him the identity of his future partner, but she told him that he would marry and have a son, and that both he and his wife would die fighting alongside Harry in the same battle that sent her back here. He resisted the urge to retch as she told him that one of the last things she remembered from that life was seeing his body laid out after the first round of the battle.

‘So Lily and James died in vain.’ He whispered angrily as he joined her in staring daggers at the wall.

‘No!’ Hermione’s alarmed voice sounded as she shifted back towards him rapidly. ‘If not for them, Harry wouldn’t have been able to do all those things. He did them to avenge his parents, because they loved him and gave their lives for him.’ She kept her eyes locked with his, ‘What we need to do now is work out a plan. I’ve accepted the fact that this is my home, where I’m meant to be. Now we can find a way to bring down Voldemort before he has a chance to rise from the dead again.’

‘You can’t take on Voldemort by yourself!’ Remus said, horrified.

Hermione smiled, ‘Who said I was doing it by myself? I have years worth of knowledge from Harry and Dumbledore, as well as knowing where all the Horcruxes are and how to destroy them.’

‘I want to help you,’ Remus heard himself volunteering.

Hermione smiled at him, ‘I was kind of counting on you helping me plan all this...’

‘No,’ he interrupted, ‘I want to help you. I want to come with you, two people are better than one. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.’

‘I can look after myself, Remus.’ She said, with a cold edge to her voice. But that was what Remus feared, that she would be so insistent that she knew how everything would go that she would rush in without thinking and get hurt. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if something were to happen to her.

‘If you get hurt, then all of this will have been in vain.’ His voice was quiet, but he knew that she had heard. ‘Please let me help you.’

‘I hate to ask, but what about the full moon?’

Remus had not thought of that, ‘We have three weeks before we have to worry about that,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what we accomplish before that and then we’ll worry about the arrangements.’

She nodded in concession. ‘I want to get started right away,’ she warned, ‘it will probably mean quitting your job.’

Remus nodded, he had expected as much, but he would follow this witch to the ends of the earth if it mean never having to suffer through war again. ‘I have a little money saved,’ he said quietly. ‘Besides, we probably won’t need much in the way of things if we’re planning covert operations anyway.’

‘You make it sound more official than it is,’ she complained as she summoned her notebook and opened it to a blank page. ‘Now, what’re we going to do?’

/-/

They spent the most of the next few days planning. Remus wrote into work and asked to take his accrued holiday leave now so that he wouldn’t lose the money to which he was entitled when he quit only a few days later. They completed their plan and Hermione was satisfied with it, but Remus was still unsure, it seemed like there were a lot of risks involved. Especially with the first stage. Apparently there were very few things that could destroy a piece of Voldemort’s soul and the only predictable one was basilisk venom. Of course, they both knew that, even if they were to acquire it, they couldn’t very well store the venom and transport it. So Hermione had come up with a back-up plan and when Remus had let slip that he had once heard Sirius talk about the Goblin-made dagger that resided in one of his mother’s display cabinets Hermione had made up her mind. Tomorrow they were going to break into Grimmauld Place and retrieve both the dagger and the locket.

At first, Remus had questioned why they didn’t get Sirius out of Azkaban first, but Hermione had rationalised that if Sirius was released, Peter would panic and run to his master. In short, it would speed up the future instead of changing it. So, for now, they needed to tell no one what they were doing, but instead they would ensure that all the Horcruxes were destroyed before releasing Sirius and telling the whole of the wizarding world the truth. She made it sound so simple. Remus only hoped that she was as good at breaking and entering as she described. But even a woman who could break into the Ministry might meet her match trying to get past Walburga Black.

There was one final point that Hermione revealed at the last stage of planning.

‘I think we should move out.’ He looked at her stupidly, and Hermione continued. ‘Just until we’re done, it’ll be a couple of months at the most. Staying here puts us both in danger is anyone even gets a hint of what’s going on. I don’t want to risk your life like that, Remus.’

‘Are you try to dissuade me, Hermione?’ Remus asked and watched as her face turned just a little bit more pink. ‘It won’t work, I’m coming with you. We’ll move out in the morning, before we start this crazy plan.’

Hermione gave him a shadow of a smile. ‘Don’t knock the plan you helped come up with!’

She bid him goodnight and headed up the stairs and Remus gazed after her. This Hermione who he had seen in the last few days was almost a completely different person. All of the hesitance and the shyness had gone and in its place was a confidence so staggering that it bordered on a recklessness on par with Sirius Black. That was why Remus had to accompany her, to keep her safe, to stop her being quite so reckless. And that was worth giving up his job and (temporarily) his home for. What she was fighting for was worth it.

/-/

Only once had Remus had the pleasure of meeting the mother of his friend and it had not been pleasant. As they sat on the sofa trying to relax the evening before their first move, Remus described the incident to Hermione.

‘She hated me from the moment she saw me,’ Remus said, popping another piece of chocolate into his mouth before continuing. ‘Mostly because I was friends with James and he was a Potter (y’know, blood traitor and all that) but when she found out about my condition she went really ballistic.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Hermione said, empathy evident in her voice. ‘But there are some people in this world capable of looking past your physicality, Remus.’

‘Yes, well. When you find them, could you point them out to me?’

As soon as he heard her soft sigh, Remus knew that he had offended her. He knew that Hermione didn’t look at him with a flashing neon sign over his head but he just wasn’t used to the treatment she gave him from anyone. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, pushing her hair back from her face absent-mindedly so that he could read her expression. He saw he close her eyes briefly at his action before she murmured softly that there was nothing to forgive. He didn’t believe her. The marauders had been well used to his self-deprecation but Remus could see that Hermione treated each of his throwaway comments like a personal insult, like he believed her to be the same as every other person in this world. If only she knew how differently he felt.

Everything was happening so fast, but Remus knew that he had never felt this way about another person before. She was slowly taking over his every thought and he couldn’t say that the feeling was unwelcome.


	11. It Won't Let Me Go

For her, the night passed quickly. The last few days had been tiring and Hermione still rose with the sun in the morning. She savoured what she knew would be her last shower for quite some time before getting dressed and packing what she would need into her leather satchel. She was going back on the run with a man, but this time felt very different from being with two people she had grown up with. She shook the ideas from her head and headed down stairs to pack up various bits of food.

By the time Remus had come downstairs Hermione had prepared a last full breakfast for him and was ready to go. She took one look at the kit bag over his shoulder and (after asking if he had packed everything he might need) shrunk it and stowed it away in her bag along with her own belongings.

They ate breakfast in silence, both mulling over what needed to be done today. The owl Hermione had expected arrived as they were doing the washing up and she dropped the domestic task to open the parcel from Dumbledore. Remus stared as the shimmering silver material fell out of the brown wrapper and Hermione pulled it around her shoulders, testing if it worked even though it had no reason not to.

She could have sworn that she heard Remus whisper very quietly, ‘James’, but when she turned to him, he was placing the plates back in the cupboard. ‘I’m ready,’ he said quietly.

Hermione tried to smile reassuringly. She would not insult him by asking if he was sure, she knew when Remus had made up his mind that was it. She waited at the edge of the garden as he secured the house as best he could before adding a few extra spells that she had learnt in preparation for the last year. Remus sighed as they stepped away from his home. Hermione took his hand for apparition and squeezed it reassuringly. ‘Let’s go save the world, Remus Lupin.’

/-/

There did not appear to be anyone at home when Hermione and Remus conducted stakeout on number twelve, but Hermione knew that Kreacher would be lurking somewhere.

They sat huddled under James’s cloak in the bushes in the back garden. Hermione had been shocked that they had been able to access the property so easily, but then the security measures she was used to had been put in place by the Order. The Blacks appeared to be more lax, living under the impression that no one would dare touch their family. Hermione had no such qualms. ‘Do you know where the knife is kept?’

‘First floor,’ Remus whispered back, ‘not sure what room though, I’ve never been in the house.’

That didn’t exactly surprise Hermione. When she had told him about Regulus and his role in all of this he had simply shrugged and said that he hadn’t known the boy well enough to make any judgements, but that maybe he was more like his older brother than either cared to admit.

She still had his fake locket, and it currently resided around her neck so that she did not lose it, but Hermione had also made a replica. She had found herself unwilling to give up the locket which Dumbledore had died for and Harry had treasured and so had transfigured a duplicate from a metal platter from Remus’s kitchen. She would swap this replica in for the real horcrux and create a duplicate of the knife before sealing the cabinet with a charm that only she could reverse. That would hopefully stop the Blacks from noticing that their house had been robbed of two very specific items.

‘It’s now or never,’ she told Remus as they watched the form of Kreacher disappear down the stairs from where he had been slinking about on the landing.

Remus went ahead of her, having cast a Disillusionment charm on himself so that she could have the cloak. He levitated himself up to the window and Hermione watched as it slid open silently, waiting for a few moments before following him. As she pulled herself through the window she heard his voice whisper that he would go left if she went right.

Hermione heard a general banging of pots and pans in the direction she knew to be the kitchen and knew that Kreacher was otherwise occupied at present. She sighed in quiet relief before beginning her search. She crept through the first few rooms silently, not finding what she was looking for and only began to panic when she reached her last room on the floor. And there it was, the glass cabinet. Hermione approached it warily and scanned for the items she was looking for. No sooner had she spotted them than a silver wolf appeared at her feet and disappeared rapidly. Hermione listened as Kreacher came up the stairs, huffing and muttering. She flattened herself against the wall and held her breath as the house elf came into the room.

Hermione observed that time had not been as kind to Kreacher as she had thought. Now, his face was remarkably less lined and his scraps of cloth less dingy. Hermione could feel the perspiration building on her forehead from the stress of the situation, but she needn’t have worried as Kreacher simply looked at the locket to make sure it was still there, before plodding his way back out of the room and down the stairs. She waited until she heard the pots and pans banging together in the kitchen again before tackling the cabinet.

It was easy enough, she thought, to replace the locket silently, placing the real one firmly around her neck. As soon as the cool metal made contact with her skin she felt it, a quiet whispering deep in her soul. She gritted her teeth and ignored the cold feeling seeping slowly into her chest. The dagger presented more of a challenge and the transifgurated butter knife did not have quite the same shine to it as the goblin-made silver, but it would have to so. According to Sirius the family didn’t look at it much anyway and Kreacher had not had eyes for anything but the locket. She hadn’t thought much about how she would carry the knife until she noticed the decorative scabbard the sat behind it. Still listening carefully, Hermione summoned one of the leather belts Remus had packed and cast a quick shape replication charm. The leather twisted into a similar shape and Hermione quickly attached it to the wand-belt that Ginny had given her for her last birthday.

She looked around the room before she left, remembering the time she had spent here with the boys, plotting and planning, worrying and hoping. The wave of sudden emotion rolled over her and she fought back tears. It was time to scarper. Hermione made her way back to the open window and hissed quietly. ‘Moony!’ she knew that using the ‘s’ sound would carry and possibly alert Kreacher to their presence in the house and so she had to refrain from swearing loudly as his still invisible hand touched her shoulder.

The hand on her shoulder guided her towards the window and Hermione levitated herself gently to the ground before hurrying back to their previous hiding spot.

‘I’m back,’ she heard a whisper as the charm began to run out of time for Remus. She quickly swept the cloak around his quickly reappearing shoulders before he could be seen.

‘I got them both,’ she said gleefully.

‘Good,’ Remus said, looking relieved, ‘let’s get out of here.’

Hermione nodded and grabbed his hand and the cloak tighter while Remus lifted her bag. They disappeared with a soft pop.

/-/

‘So what’s next?’ Remus asked.

Hermione had brought them a hillside cave and was currently digging in her bag for something.

‘We make camp, wait for tonight and then we go to see Dumbledore and tell him there’s a giant snake living beneath his school.’ She made it sound so simple.

‘Make camp? Here? Are you sure this is secure enough?’

Hermione had managed to find what looked like a mass of green canvas and was setting it on the ground as she answered him. ‘Yes, of course, I camped out here when I arrived in this time.’

Remus frowned, ‘You were living here? Surely there had to have been someone who could have helped you.’

He watched as she simply shrugged and muttered something about affecting the timeline and someone name DeLorean.

It explained a lot of the questions he had initially had about Hermione. Of course, he now knew that she had landed in this world with nothing but what she happened to have carried with her but hearing that she had slept rough here until he had invited her into his home... Even in this world she had already suffered so much. He had no idea how she had managed to eat up here, but when he asked she had freely admitted that if he hadn’t taken her to Hogwarts when he did she probably would have had to start stealing in order to stay alive.

She had lived here for a time, an outcast just as he had imagined but the reality of her situation was even worse. She had had nothing and no one, really it was no wonder that she had formed an attachment to the only person who ever seemed to talk to her. Remus wondered if that was all it was, if he was the only opportunity she had for human contact and what that might mean for their friendship.

He shook his head lightly as he became aware of Hermione talking to him. ‘I’m sorry, pardon?’

‘Did you bring a sleeping bag?’ she repeated.

Remus blinked at her stupidly. Damn. ‘Um, no, I didn’t.’

Hermione had charmed the green mass into a muggle tent and he watched as she threw her own black sleeping bag in. ‘That’s alright,’ she said airily, ‘why don’t you go and catch a few hours now and then I’ll sleep a bit later, I think we have a long night ahead.’

Remus wanted to argue with her, he really did, but knew that it would get them nowhere when she was being as stubborn as she was now. He thanked Hermione quietly as she took a seat near the entrance to the cave and climbed into the tent for a few hours rest.

There had been very little time to actually process the full ramifications of Hermione’s revelations in all the planning they had done since but now Remus found himself lying in the silence of the tent, unable to sleep. Sirius was innocent, he thought, we trusted the wrong man. The guilt threatened to eat him alive but what was even worse was the revelation that if Hermione had chosen to stay silent about what she knew and searched for a way back to her own world Remus would have gone on believing Sirius was guilty of betrayal and murder for another eleven years. Now that he stopped and thought about it, the guilt was eating him alive. How could he not have seen that it was always Peter? It seemed so obvious now, Peter always hung around with bigger, more powerful friends. He had never distinguished himself academically or on the Quidditch pitch, but he revelled in the achievements of his friends. He wanted us to protect him, Remus though bitterly, he wanted to be seen with those whom he deemed powerful. The thought made him sick.

Hermione’s predicament got him thinking about what he could have done differently in his life. it was a path he had travelled down many times before, usually just before the full moon. He often wondered what his life would have been like if he had never been bitten but now Remus wondered if there was any way they could ever have stopped Pettigrew. It was a very dangerous game, he knew this, but it didn’t stop his mind wandering down those paths. It was only as he lay there, thinking about the consequences of actions that had occurred on the Hogwarts Expressed when he was only eleven years old, that he realised exactly how carefully Hermione had to tread in this world.

She knew what would come if she did nothing. Stopping what she could see as inevitable was a very big task indeed. But she chose not to see it as such, she had the chance to go back and change things in a way that Remus could not. She did not let it show but Remus was sure that the weight of her actions lay heavily on her shoulders. Only she could free Sirius and bring Peter to justice.

And what would Remus do when Sirius was free? How would he explain to him what had happened? Would Sirius hate him for believing the lies? He pushed the thoughts aside for now. Really, he decided, Sirius had every right to hate him. It didn’t even matter if he did, all that mattered was that he be freed, the rest could be worked out later. He hoped.

As he finally felt his eyes closing, his thoughts drifted back to the witch guarding the cave. The futures of so many people depended on this one woman and they didn’t even know it.

/-/

His first thought on waking was that Hermione must have let him sleep longer than he expected. The cave was not as light as it had been and as he shuffled out of the small tent, Remus saw that the sun was setting.

Hermione was still sitting on the rocky outcrop, silently examining the dagger had been strapped around her waist. Remus couldn’t help but notice that she had changed her clothes and now looked even more dressed for combat than she had this morning. He suspected that the clothes she wore now were ones she had brought with her from the future. On her top she was wearing a long-sleeved dark brown t-shirt under a dark-green sleeveless top. She wore tight-fitting dark blue jeans tucked into what looked like brown dragon-hide boots that were well worn. To his amusement, Remus recognised the belt she wore as his own. She had obviously charmed it to change shape to suit her needs and it hung over her clothes at a slightly off-set angle, her hand lingered on her wand. This was a woman used to fighting and prepared to start at any moment. Even her eyes contained a hardness that he had not seen there before. Now her mission was beginning in earnest. Tonight they were going into the Chamber of Secrets.

They didn’t speak much as they travelled to Hogwarts under the protection of the cloak. It was somewhat distracting for Remus, to try and concentrate on the task at hand when the relatively small size of their protection meant that his body kept coming into close contact with Hermione’s. So far, he was managing to focus but only just. After they entered the bathroom Hermione checked for all signs of Moaning Myrtle before pulling it off of them.

‘Remind me why exactly this is a good idea.’ Remus almost pleaded, slightly panicky now about this particular part of the plan.

‘Relax, Remus.’ That didn’t help at all. ‘It will be fine.’

‘So you’re perfectly comfortable taking on a basilisk, then?’ The pessimism in his voice was obvious and he wished instantly that he hadn’t asked the biting question.

‘I’ve told you, the basilisk is in a sort of hibernation until the heir of Slytherin awakens it again,’ she explained. ‘Until then we have all the time in the world to go down there, sneak through the chamber and simply wipe the dagger on one of its teeth.’ Remus couldn’t help thinking that if there was one thing this whole affair definitely was not then it was simple.

How Hermione had managed to remember the sound to open the pipe he could only guess, as she insisted that she could not speak Parsletongue but had heard it spoken by Harry. It took her a few attempts, but she had managed it. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets opened and Remus followed Hermione down the dark chute into the unknown.


	12. Look Right Through Me

Logically, Hermione knew that they were perfectly safe from the sleeping snake. The thundering of her heart told a different story.

She had landed on her feet at the bottom of the short chute and called for Remus to join her. He levitated down slowly until he reached the ground and looked around them. Hermione followed his gaze up one of the many tunnels that led away from where they stood.

‘That one,’ he breathed and Hermione nodded her ascent. She remembered, to her it was only a few weeks since she had been here. The only difference was that the last time the basilisk was dead. Now, here, it was living and breathing. Asleep, but still dangerous. But all she needed was to collect a few drops of its venom on the dagger.

She lit her wand tip and picked her way across the slimy and slightly uneven floor. Even then, she still managed to stumble and was only prevented from falling by a strong arm grasping her waist. Despite the situation Hermione blushed and walked a little closer to Remus than before, feeling safer by his side.

They continued in silence, their muffled footfalls echoing quietly off the round stone walls as they continued down the pipes. Finally the pipe opened up to a follow cavern, the Chamber of Secrets, and there it was. The basilisk was curled up at the base of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, its thick body looking imposing despite its inactive state.

Hermione tried to fight her fear. This creature had put her in a coma in her old life and yet she somehow had to approach it and open its jaws. She fought the tremors which fought to overcome her body, trying to hide them from Remus.

But he must have noticed. Hermione felt his hand gently unclasp hers from the knife and watched as he slowly approached the sleeping snake. Her breathing became more and more shaky the nearer he got and Hermione closed her eyes. She wanted to tell him to come back, tell him that she would find another way; she shouldn’t have let him do this. It was too dangerous, she rued as she watched him with baited breath, and she should never have put Remus in this position.

He seemed to have no difficulties using his wand to open its jaw and wipe the dagger along the side of one of the creature’s fangs but Hermione found herself watching with increasing concern all the same. It was only when he was back at her side, pressing the handle of the dagger back into her hand that she felt she could breathe.

They walked back to the entrance, slightly faster that Hermione was comfortable with but desperate to get out of this place. She hadn’t been prepared for the psychological effect of seeing something which had previously almost been her end. She didn’t even notice as Remus shook her shoulders to indicate that they were back where they started before levitating her back up to the top of the tunnel.

Looking around the bathroom, Hermione began to feel ashamed of falling apart in front of Remus like that. He made no comment as he hauled his own body out of the gap in the floor but simply sat beside her on the cold tiles. Neither moved for several minutes until Remus finally stood, offering his hand to Hermione. She accepted it gratefully and breathed out shakily as she was pulled to her feet.

‘We should have just killed the thing,’ Remus was muttering, pulling her into his side as she struggled to stand on her shaky legs, ‘taken a rooster in or something.’

Hermione was instantly horrified. ‘We can’t do that! It’s the last known basilisk in existence, Remus.’

He shook his head at her with a small smile. ‘What now?’

Hermione studied him, his face filled with concern. She steeled herself before answering. ‘We keep going, we move onto the next stage.’ She felt the dagger in its scabbard unconsciously. ‘We go to the Room of Requirement and find the diadem.’

She saw Remus nod grimly. ‘Let’s go.’

/-/

Finding the diadem proved to be a piece of cake. Remus had seemed surprised that Hermione knew a part of the castle that the marauders had never discovered but she had simply shrugged it off. There were bound to be parts of the castle that neither of them knew about.

It took them only a few minutes in the Room of Requirement before Remus called out that he had found the headpiece. She was at his side almost immediately, curling her fingers around the intricate lattice of metal. ‘We need to get back to camp before we destroy it,’ Hermione heard herself say, pulling the cloak out of her bag.

‘Wait,’ Remus caught her arm gently, ‘shouldn’t raid the potion store while we’re here?’

Hermione nodded, he was right. ‘Of course, lead the way.’

It was her turn to be surprised as Remus led Hermione down a staircase she had no knowledge of which led to the dungeons, just left of the classroom door. It was dinner time now and there seemed to be no students about but Hermione insisted that they use the cloak anyway. She desperately wished that they had the marauders map with them but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

As averse to stealing as she was, Hermione couldn’t risk Severus Snape getting even a whiff of what they were up to. Involving Dumbledore by asking for James’ cloak had been enough of a risk. True, she still had Harry’s cloak but she did not want to risk using it. The study of the effects of time travel on what was essentially the same magical object (and a very powerful one, at that) would have to wait until later and she would keep Harry’s cloak safely stored in her bag until then, even if it meant both of them huddling under the one scrap of material.

‘Ow, bloody hell Remus.’ She muttered as he stood on her left foot.

‘Sorry,’ she heard the muttered reply as he gently prised open the office door of the potion master.

The office was far different than she remembered it, the room looked like it was undergoing a complete clear out. Jars and bottles were piled in rather precarious looking formations and reading the labels was near impossible. All in all, it was more chaotic than the Room of Lost Things. It took them a few minutes to locate the Polyjuice potion before Hermione wrapped them in a protective spell and placed them into her bag.

She hadn’t even realised that Remus had slipped out from under the cloak until she noticed him staring at an article from the Daily Prophet stuck on the wall, ‘A Solution to the Werewolf Problem?’. Hermione felt herself bristling at the title.

‘Lupin? What in Merlin’s name are you doing in my office?’

Hermione felt her blood run cold as both she and Remus whipped around to face the man in the black, billowing robes. Damn! She saw Remus flit his eyes around the room, obviously checking to see if she was still hidden. She moved as silently as she could to stand behind him and took his hand in hers, giving it a small squeeze to reassure him of her whereabouts.

‘Severus, I...’

‘WHY ARE YOU IN MY BLOODY OFFICE?!’

Hermione felt Remus physically recoil from Snape’s yell. She leaned up and whispered softly in his ear. ‘Dumbledore sent you about Wolfsbane.’

‘The Headmaster said that I should come and ask you about Wolfsbane.’ Remus managed to choke out.

‘Oh, right well... here.’

Snape picked one of the containers off the floor and shoved it into his hands, turning back to his work. Hermione was so used to the calm, cool, collected professor that the man flapping about in the black robes looking seriously stressed was a completely alien being to her. She forgot that Snape was new to this job and was still getting used to dealing with all the different components of teaching. That probably explained the mess that he called an office but it did nothing to endear him to her, especially with the next sentence that came out of the man’s mouth.

‘I haven’t time to be wasting on half-breeds, Lupin.’

How dare he! Hermione went to move forward, but stopped at the pressure of fingernails biting into her palm and an almost imperceptible shake of the head from Remus.

‘Of course, I’ll just be going then,’ he said, pulling Hermione after him as he left the room as quickly as possible.

As soon as they were out of the room, Hermione threw the cloak around Remus, silently apologising for not doing a better job of protecting him with it before. They walked out of the school and to the gates at a brisk pace. Hermione knew that the sooner she destroyed the pieces of soul around her neck and in her hand the better.

/-/

They made their way back to the cave, and Remus sat on the ground opposite Hermione as she examined the two horcruxes.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, meeting her eyes as she looked at him in confusion. ‘About being seen by Snape.’ To be honest he didn’t know what the potion that his former school rival had given him was but he knew that Hermione would tell him in her own time.

‘No, it’s... Why did you let him talk to you like that?’ she asked suddenly and Remus blanched.

‘It’s just easier.’

He could see that Hermione was struggling to reign in her temper. ‘It doesn’t make it right. No human being should be treated like that, Remus.’

Remus looked away from the fire burning in her eyes and, as he opened his mouth, wondered why he could never take the easy option where she was concerned. ‘You keep forgetting, Hermione, that I’m not human.’

His head jerked up as he felt her hand on his chest, just over where he knew his heart to be. ‘You feel human to me.’

She was so close, her breath mingling with his as they stared each other down, but all Remus could think about was the heat of her small hand through his clothes and how much he wanted to take her bottom lip between his. No one had ever stood up for him the way she had in years. When he had met James and Sirius, they had taken his quiet, studious self into their group and later they had kept his secret. But that was the point, it remained secret. Now here was the crazy younger woman acting as if he didn’t have anything to be ashamed of. He knew she would never betray his confidence and tell anyone about his condition but she didn’t ignore it in the same way as the Marauders had at times. She accepted it, accepted him.

He wondered vaguely if she was being too blasé about the whole issue. When he had mentioned the full moon, Hermione had simply written it off saying that they would deal with that when the time came. But then, she had also been extremely considerate of his injuries after the last transformation, trying to help his as best she could. He still didn’t know if she realised the full-extent of what suffering from the bite meant, but she appeared not to let it affect their relationship.

What relationship, he scoffed to himself, you’re just following her around like a little puppy, this woman clearly doesn’t need your protection. He knew it was true, but the thought of her being alone in what was, to her, an unfamiliar world seemed callous. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, Remus didn’t think he could let her go on her own, he would just make himself old with worrying about her.

He was so lost in thought and yearning that he almost didn’t notice as she pulled away from him and handed his the dagger and the diadem of Ravenclaw. ‘Here, you found this one.’

Remus stared at it before asking, ‘So what? I just... stab it?’ Hermione nodded her assent and he stabbed the middle piece. The echoing shriek was so loud that he dropped the horcrux on the ground, watching it appear to writhe and twist before the shrieking stopped.

‘Sorry,’ he heard her sheepish voice, ‘I probably should have warned you.’

He passed the dagger back. ‘That may have been a good idea.’ He covered his ears as Hermione took great relish stabbing the locket, which emitted a similar sort of wail. ‘Two down.’

/-/

Hermione slept for only a few hours before changing places with Remus. She took the issue of security very seriously, insisting that one of them needed to be on guard at all times. Remus knew why she did it. If anyone was to find out what they were doing not only would their lives be in danger but they would risk a second war. So he had followed her when she asked him to leave his house and job for a while and come with her to change the world. She shouldn’t have to do this on her own, the burden was too great, even for her.

She had told him that they should really go after the ring next, as it was the least likely to be missed by anyone and would give them more time. However, their shared worry was that she did not know what lay in store for them in doing so. She had never retrieved this horcrux in her previous life and so wanted to leave it to last.

So, she and Remus had agreed that the next step would be to secure some polyjuice potion and go after Hufflepuff’s cup and Riddle’s diary. Hermione Payden needed to remain anonymous.

‘Hermione?’ he asked over their meagre breakfast of slightly stale bread. ‘What’s your real name?’

‘Hermione Jean Granger.’ She told him. ‘My parents are both dentists from London.’ She sighed sadly, ‘But that was the old me, from now on I am Hermione Payden.’

Not for the first time, it struck Remus how much Hermione must be giving up. She said that she didn’t exactly relish returning to a war-torn world, but she was giving up friends and family to stay here and create a better world for her best friend to grow up in. The loyalty she displayed for Harry was astonishing, it reminded Remus very much of his own friends, and of their loyalty. But maybe this went beyond that, and Remus had to consider that she was doing this because she had loved Harry. His jealousy of a toddler was irrational at best and he tried to dispel the feelings as Hermione shoved a vial of potion into his hands.

‘Here’s the plan,’ she said, sitting with him behind a huge tree trunk. Remus watched as she poured some of the potion she had stolen from Snape into a metal cup and added two silver hairs from a glass bottle. ‘This is Polyjuice potion, it will allow you to be Albus Dumbledore for two hours.’

Remus stared at her in disbelief. ‘Okay...’

She handed him the cup. ‘We’re going to travel to Diagon Alley and go to Gringotts. We will get into the Lestrange’s vault under the pretence of Wizengamot business and destroy the cup. We won’t take it with us, so there will be nothing to suspect, then I’ll use a memory charm on our goblin escort so that we don’t leave any evidence behind.’

‘What about you?’ Remus asked.

‘I’ll be under the cloak.’ Hermione explained. ‘Now let’s get going before business starts picking up.’

She was right, the best time to do this was now. Remus drank the liquid in one gulp and was grateful as he tasted the burn in his mouth. Hermione transfigured him a set of spectacles out of a twig and performed a few charms on his robes to give them the appearance of being grander than they were. They apparated hand-in-hand to the front of the building, Hermione already hidden under James’s cloak.

/-/

It was very rare for Remus to need a trip to the wizarding bank, but he knew what to do when he arrived. With Hermione’s hand still gripping his wrist he approached one of the desks and gave them his story: that he was here on official business and that the fewer knew about it the better. Hermione muttered quietly in his ear that the last time she had been here, it had been a lot harder to access someone else’s vault. She may have spoken too soon.

The thing they hadn’t accounted for was that Remus would be given a cart only big enough for him and his guide. He felt Hermione squeeze his hand reassuringly before she slipped the sheathed knife into his pocket and whispered ‘Meet here. Memory charm.’ Remus knew she didn’t trust herself to say any more. So, alone, he entered the cart and followed the plan.

The goblin stopped outside the Lestrange’s vault and his first impression was that it wasn’t guarded as well as Hermione had expected. Maybe they had changed the security after Voldemort returned, possibly even at his request. Now it seemed that Bellatrix had no knowledge of the power the cup she was keeping safe for her master held. To be on the safe side, Remus cast a silencing charm on the door, aware that the scream the cup would emit while dying was a sure way to be caught out.

With a simple ‘accio’ the cup was in his gloved hand. Remus plunged the knife through the house crest immediately and the cup did indeed emit a wail. Instantly, the cup felt lighter and he knew that he had been successful. Remus threw the cup back onto the pile of gold somewhere near the back of the vault. There should be no one in here for quite a while but he still didn’t want to leave it in plain sight.

He ended the silencing charm and asked to be let out of the vault.

‘Did you find what you sought, sir?’ The goblin asked.

‘Alas, no,’ Remus sighed, ‘it seems that the council has been misinformed again.’

The goblin muttered something under his breath but offered no commentary that Remus could hear.

On arriving back at the platform, he felt Hermione’s hand close around his wrist again before she performed the memory spell and Remus thanked the confused goblin for accompanying him to the school vault. They left the building as quickly as possible, before the effects of the Polyjuice could run out, secure in the knowledge that another part of the plan had been completed.

/-/

The next few days were uneventful for Remus and Hermione. At night they took it in turns sleeping or guarding while reading one of the few books Hermione had packed. Remus had laughed at her selection and spent his hours on guard duty rereading an Agatha Christie novel that she had brought from his house.

During the day time, they would separate for a few hours. Remus would go to Hogsmead and Hermione would go to Diagon Alley. She always insisted that he took the cloak with him. The reason she gave was that no one knew her here and so she was in no danger but if anyone was to see Remus hanging about it may raise questions. So, for a few hours every day they would take up their separate positions and listen to Pureblood society gossip.

It wasn’t the most glamorous stakeout task that he could have imagined, but Hermione insisted that this was the best way to get information discreetly. They needed to find a way into Malfoy Manor and Hermione was determined that someone would let something slip in the street. Quite what she was waiting to hear he wasn’t sure, but Remus had yet to overhear anything that could be even remotely useful. It took four days before it paid off.

‘The Malfoy’s are having a ball tomorrow.’ Hermione reported, drying her hair off with a spell. It had been raining most of the day and Remus had to look away as he found himself starting to watch the way the drops of water rolled down her neck.

He smiled tightly, ‘I don’t exactly think we’ll be invited, Hermione.’ Maybe Hermione had gone a little batty. He passed her the bowl of pasta he had just finished cooking. He had never had pasta before he had met her but it seemed to be part of their staple diet due to the ease with which it could be prepared.

‘When there’s a ball on the host and hostess wouldn’t dare leave the party for fear of being impolite.’ She said with apparent glee, ‘We would be free to search the library for hours!’

And now Remus knew where she was going with this. ‘So you want to use a ball to infiltrate one of the most secure wizarding manors in Britain. A ball when there will be hundreds of people, mostly ex-Death Eaters, in attendance.’

Hermione simply shrugged. ‘Yes.’

‘Are you mental?’ He asked.

Hermione simply laughed at him. ‘No, you see, by my reckoning it because there will be people there that we’ll be able to do this. “Purebloods” are all about reputation, right?’ Remus nodded and she continued, ‘so this party will be the party to be at. That means that the Malfoys will have been so busy trying to make their manor look perfect that security considerations will be minimum. Trust me,’ she said, ‘Lucius Malfoy is overly confident in his own safety, he thinks he’s untouchable and that’s when people mess up!’

Remus wished that she recognised the irony in her own words and he told her so. ‘Yeah, they do, Hermione.’

She simply glared at him. ‘I just want this all to be over as quickly as possible. I want you to be free to go home.’

Remus winced a little. ‘Please tell me you’re not trying to rush this all because of me.’

‘Honestly?’ she asked, ‘in part, yes. However, I’m mostly rushing to try and get this finished so that we can get Sirius out of Azkaban as soon as possible.’

He blinked at her. When Hermione had argued that Sirius needed to remain in Azkaban so as not the raise the alarm, he thought that she had written him off completely for the time being. He should have known that she wasn’t capable of such a thing. ‘Just, promise me not to rush into anything because you want it done now.’

‘I promise.’

Somehow he didn’t believe her.


	13. My Heartbeat is Warning Me

It was with great embarrassment that Hermione asked Remus to stand guard outside the cave while she took a bath just after lunch the next day. She had managed to get by with a washcloth and basin for the last few days but, after having got used to regular showers while staying in his house she was loath to give up the extremely underappreciated sensation of simply being clean.

She did as she had before, expanding the basin and filling it with hot water. She had no fear that Remus would try to come back into the cave until she called for him, the unique shade of scarlet his face had turned when she had asked him to leave had been enough evidence of that. That and the fact that she knew Remus had far more respect for her than that. She imagined that a twenty-two year old Sirius would have been another matter entirely.

Thinking about him made her heart ache a little. There was so much that had went wrong in the aftermath of the Potters’ deaths and she wished desperately that, since she couldn’t bring back his parents, Hermione would make sure that Harry was brought up in a loving home by his godfather instead. Of course, from his reputation she may have to keep Sirius in line on the ‘relationships’ front, but it had to be a better childhood than living under the thumb of an aunt and uncle terrified that Harry would turn out just as gifted as his mother.

Remus had hit the nail on the head, she wanted Harry out of that environment as soon as she could manage it. She had even contemplated raising him herself, but she needed to get her NEWTS and a job first. But all that came secondary to what she was doing now.

Well, not right now, as currently she was wrapped in a towel and digging in her trunk for some clothes. Hermione tried to combat the cold by teaming a pair of jeans with a long-sleeved dark blue t-shirt and a chocolate brown sleeveless top over it. She grabbed the brown work boots that she had ‘borrowed’ from Charlie Weasley and shrunk to fit her.

Shivering a little in the towel she rooted in the trunk for some clean underwear but was unable to find anything that wasn’t of the lacy push-up variety. Maybe for some women these things were ‘essential’, but Hermione couldn’t imagine how the Room of Requirement viewed them one of her necessities. Lavender and Parvati had always lamented that Hermione spent her life in t-shirt bras and refused to ‘flaunt her assets’ the way they did. She had never felt the need to then and she certainly wasn’t starting to now, especially when there wasn’t anyone to impress. Except Remus.

As she grudgingly pulled on the lacy brown bra and matching shorts, Hermione told that traitorous part of her brain to keep quiet, but it wouldn’t listen. Remus and Hermione had never dealt with the almost-kiss back at the house and now they had dove head-first into the mission that he had so willingly accompanied her on. Hermione had never been one to be egotistical about herself when it came to her attractiveness to the opposite sex but she realised that it was entirely possible that Remus was, at the very least, attracted to her. Or maybe the idea of her, the woman who swooped into his life and promised to try and make it better for him and his only remaining friend. She would have to tread carefully and ignore the similar attraction that she felt to him, a man whose older self she had once considered a mentor. It was all very strange.

She went outside to swap places with Remus and prayed he didn’t see her embarrassment as she tried very hard not to imagine him in the bath.

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The party was in full swing when they arrived at around nine in the evening. The pair managed to apparate to the side of the property and enter through the hole Remus created in the ornate nine-foot hedges. From their vantage point at the back of the house (hidden under the cloak) they could see the majority of people were either in the ballroom or milling about in the foyer. There seemed to be no one on the second floor, where they could just about make out the library in the east wing of the house.

Hermione snorted at that. East wing, no wonder Malfoy felt he could lord it over us, growing up surrounded by excess.

Using the same method as they had used at the Black house, both made it through the library window and took in the room. It was smaller than Hermione would have expected for so large a house, but that would only make their search easier. There were periodical gaps in the shelving around the walls wherein were housed various pieces of artwork. Hermione would have loved to examine it, but now was not the time. She checked the coast was clear before ducking out from under the cloak and, alongside Remus, started to move silently through the rows, checking a side each to try and find the small, black leather journal.

‘Anything?’ she asked Remus after four different rows.

‘No,’ he whispered back, and then suddenly, ‘wait...’

Hermione watched as he pulled a black leather book off the shelf and opened to a page in the middle, but she knew the size to be wrong. It was too small and too thick. She was about to say so to Remus when he flushed red and shoved the book back on the shelf.

‘That’s not it.’ He mumbled, looking anywhere but her

‘What was it?’ She asked, curious as to what would have him so flustered.

‘Nothing,’ he said and then muttered something about ‘interesting positions’ as his cheeks turned slightly darker.

Hermione snickered quietly as they neared the end of the aisle. She glanced up at the shelves overhead and, by some fluke, managed to locate the diary out of the corner of her eye.

‘I’ve got it,’ she hissed to Remus trying to reach the book. She felt the warmth of his body behind her as Remus stretched his arm out for it where she could not reach. ‘Thanks,’ she mumbled.

Remus passed her the diary and Hermione studied it. The last time it had ‘died’ Harry said that it hadn’t gone easily, bleeding ink. They would need something to try and stem that, so she pulled one of her old t-shirts out of her bag and wrapped it around the diary.

Placing a silencing charm on the book Hermione drew the dagger from her belt. She looked up at Remus in silent question and he nodded. She plunged the dagger into the heart of the diary and ink began to bleed into the material surrounding it as she had expected.

What Hermione had not expected was the scream that the book emitted as it died. She had silenced it but apparently her spell had had no effect. Desperately she stabbed the diary again and again until it stopped screaming.

Before she knew what was happening, Remus had grabbed the book from her hands and shoved it back into its place on the shelf. He held the stained material in one hand and, faster than she thought possible, Remus had her under the cloak and her wand tip extinguished as the door to the library creaked open.

Lucius Malfoy strode through the door of his library followed by a heavy-set figure in a dark travelling cloak. She nearly choked as they started to head their direction, but Remus had her pressed into one of the gaps she had noticed earlier and covered her mouth with his hand. She tried to not breathe too loudly or make any movements as she watched a barely-changed Malfoy stop only a few feet from them.

He looked around, studying for any intruders. ‘Bloody books,’ he muttered, ‘I should have never added Narcissa’s books. The Blacks always were notorious for collecting oddities, screaming books are only one of them.’ It was only at this point that Hermione was aware that he was talking to someone. ‘You were saying?’ The blonde man asked his cloaked companion.

‘Is that any way to talk to your old friend?’ The harsh voice asked.

‘You know we cannot be seen to associate in this climate,’ Malfoy hissed, tapping his foot impatiently.

‘I thought that you would want to know, there’s word of the Ministry poking about in Death Eater Gringotts accounts, seeing if they’ve anything to hide.’

Hermione watched with fear to see Malfoy’s reaction. She needn’t have worried, the man simply raised an eyebrow and resumed the foot tapping. ‘And?’

The figure in the cloak shrugged. ‘Just thought I’d give you a little warning, in case you needed to move anything... incriminating. You know that they can’t search residences without going through at least two of the six ministry officials I know you have paid off.’

Just as Hermione had expected, Lucius Malfoy was overly confident about the safety of his reputation. ‘I can assure you that I have no such evidence to hold against me.’ Anymore, Hermione added mentally.

‘Just thought that I’d warn you.’ The more she listened to him talk, the more Hermione thought that she knew that voice. It was only when the figure in the cloak pulled down his hood that she had to try and mask the whimper that threatened to escape. Remus clamped his hand down harder over her mouth.

It was Dolohov, the man who had sent her back here in the first place. The man who had killed Remus and bragged about it to her face. He looked over to where they stood, obviously having heard the sound Hermione made. She didn’t move as he muttered something to Lucius about mice before he swept out of the room. Hermione watched as Malfoy’s eyes flickered momentarily to a shelf near her head. She held her breath as he, too, exited the room.

So now they had an idea where the diary was. Hermione turned her eyes back to Remus, suddenly realising how close together they were now that the danger had passed.

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When he had dragged her into the alcove, the only though in his mind was that Remus had to protect Hermione. However, as soon as he felt her supple body aligned with his and her warm breath on his hand, he found his body reacting for the second time that day. Only this time he wasn’t able to run from the cave when she announced that she was having a bath (and would he kindly remove himself?). It had taken him all of the time she had been washing to try and get images of a wet, naked Hermione out of his head, only to have them come flooding back when he noticed her slightly damp hair and the slight smell of blueberries that clung to her.

But now, the adrenaline coursing through his body in addition to the small moans he tried to quiet caused his body to react very differently from the fear that permeated his mind. He waited until Malfoy and the other man had left before removing his hand from her mouth, suppressing a moan of his own as he watched her tongue wet her lips. Her hands were trapped against his thighs and he could feel the heat from her small digits through his jeans. He watched as her darkened eyes studied him, waiting for him to make the first move. But she gave no indication of what she wanted and she had already rejected his advances before. Despite the tightening in his trousers, he would be a gentleman, allowing her to exit the small space first, trying to maintain composure as her thigh created friction where he wanted it most.

‘He didn’t lift it out to check it,’ Hermione explained in a whisper, ‘so we should be safe for a while yet.’ And she was right, the diary’s spine showed no sign of the damage they had caused to the piece of soul contained within.

Remus said nothing as he followed her out of the manor and into the night.

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After almost being caught in the Malfoy library, Remus wasn’t entirely sure as to why Hermione was choosing to simply ignore his obvious attraction to her. He knew that she had to have noticed his physical reaction to her being so close and yet she was choosing appear ignorant of it, as always.

It wasn’t that he considered this merely a physical thing, he knew that he genuinely liked the woman and her two sides: the shy, pleasant woman he had first met and the confident hellcat who acted like a soldier and planned on changing the world. She was still somewhat of an enigma to Remus, but he found that spending time with her made the rest of the world simply fade into the background. It was still there, but Hermione became his primary concern.

They arrived back at the cave and he sat down next to Hermione as she conjured one of her blue flames to warm the enclosed space. She sat down beside it and tried to clean the ink stains off her hands and from where it had transferred onto her clothing.

‘Hermione?’ He started cautiously, ‘Who was the man with Malfoy?’

He watched as her whole body tensed. ‘His name is Dolohov.’ She whispered. ‘He’s a Death Eater.’

Remus narrowed his eyes at her evasiveness. She had promised that if he asked a question she would tell him the truth. ‘Why were you so afraid of him?’

Hermione was looking at the fire, her hands handing limply as she rested her forearms on her thighs. Remus took one of her hands in one of his and squeezed it reassuringly. ‘Please,’ he murmured.

‘In my... In the other world,’ she amended and Remus gave her a small smile, ‘in that world he tried to kill me. It was when we went after the prophecy, when Sirius was killed.’ She scrubbed a hand over her face and Remus was shocked to recognise the gesture as one that James had been fond of. He wondered if his son had inherited it and if Hermione was imitating him. But, then again, it could have just been coincidence.

‘I was saved, obviously,’ she continued, ‘but I fought him again, at the battle. It was Dolohov who sent me back here.’ Remus saw her inhale a shaky breath. ‘I don’t think he knew that it was time-travel curse, he meant to kill me. He boasted before that he had killed the man who saved me two years before. He... he killed you, Remus. The older you. And he sounded so damn proud.’ Her teeth were gritted and Remus stroked his thumb across her wrist in an attempt to comfort her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry you had to see him.’

Hermione shook her head and he watched as he curls bobbed around her face. ‘No, you don’t understand...’ Her anguished eyes met his. ‘I wanted to kill him, Remus. I wanted to do it while he was standing in front of me. But how can I do that? It would make me no better than him.’

‘You are not like him, Hermione. You’re strong and brave and good. You wouldn’t have done it,’ he reassured her, knowing that it was true, ‘because you are better than him.’

Now that he had learned a bit more about her reaction to the man they had hidden from, Remus was feeling even worse about his particular preoccupations at that time. But what startled him the most was that he couldn’t bring himself to hate the man who had apparent killed him in Hermione’s past. And it was for one simple reason: if Dolohov hadn’t cursed Hermione then she wouldn’t be here with him.

The thought took him completely unaware and he turned to look at the fire, hoping to hide his emotions from her. The selfishness of his attitude disgusted him, the curse had ruined Hermione’s life and here he was, silently thankful that Hermione had entered his life. It was ridiculous.

But then... She had said that whatever future she had had in that world was sure to be miserable. She had just lost some close friends, including one of the two boys who had been by her side for seven years. The future of that world was uncertain at best, even if they had managed to win the battle, or so she had said. Remus knew that she was still loath to know that some things would never happen now, such as her friendships with Harry and Ron, but he also knew that she was making the most of the opportunity she had been presented with. She relished the idea of being able to change the future for Harry. She seemed to want him to live more than she wanted to be happy. She was the most selfless person he had ever come across.

And she was still so young, only nineteen. True, it was only three years younger than him but when Remus had been nineteen the war had only been starting. With his affliction he had long since considered himself innocent, but the war had changed the lives of many people his age who were. Their lives had been permanently scarred.

When he and his friends had joined the Order of the Phoenix they hadn’t known what was up ahead but Hermione did. She knew what she would lose, what she would risk losing, and yet she faced it head on. She wanted the world to be better for everyone and he was fairly sure that (if it came down to it) she would give her life to ensure that Harry would grow up in peace and never have to endure the trauma that she had witnessed over the last seven years.

‘It’s the full moon tomorrow.’ She commented, pulling him out of his thoughts.

‘I know,’ he sighed. ‘Will you be alright by yourself here for a night?’

Hermione grinned sheepishly. ‘I have a confession.’ He tilted his head at her curiously. ‘You know that potion Snape gave you?’ Remus nodded, remembering the flask she had taken from him and stowed in her bag. ‘It means you won’t have to leave.’

Remus lifted the cork and sniffed at the steaming liquid. ‘How...’

He listened as Hermione explained about the Wolsfbane potion which would allow him to control his actions under the full moon. He was still slightly sceptical about how well it would work but between them he and Hermione would be able to put up wards to keep her safe until they could test how Moony responded to the potion. The prospect of a quiet full moon sounded like heaven.

‘Thank-you,’ he said sincerely.

Hermione simply smiled at him.


	14. It’s Better That You Don’t Care

They spent the next day doing nothing. It made no sense to try and do anything when they would have only a few hours. As loath as Hermione was to sit still when there were still issues to be resolved she knew that it wouldn’t be good for Remus. Instead, they spent the day in the cave, making it wolf-friendly. They had packed up all of their belongings and had read in peaceful silence for most of the day.

As the sun began to set, Hermione made sure that Remus drank his potion before they had some dinner. The handful of pasta each wasn’t much but they were rapidly running out of supplies. Yet another reason to have this all over and done with quickly, so that they could return to a normal existence. Except that Hermione didn’t know quite what that would mean for her. She put it out of her head for the time being, concentrating on Remus and the approaching moon.

She had fought with him for a while about her safety. She knew that the potion would work but he still insisted that she wait outside and locked him inside with various charms until they knew it was safe for her to approach him. He had won the argument, but Hermione knew that such a precaution was unnecessary.

What she didn’t consider until she was outside, waiting to hear the sounds of his transformation was that there might have been another reason he had wanted her out here. She was fairly sure that Remus was currently naked. She couldn’t see him from where she stood and this only confirmed her suspicions. The thought made a blush rise in her cheeks.

There was silence as the moon rose. She didn’t know if it was an effect of the potion or if Remus was simply very good at hiding his pain from her. It was only when she heard the soft yip of the wolf that she knew it was complete. She stood beside the barrier to see if he approached her.

Remus transformed was larger than a normal wolf. He stood with his head level with Hermione’s chest and cocked to one side, Hermione smiled as she realised that he often did the same thing in his human form. His fur was exactly the same sandy brown as his hair and his eyes retained their amber quality as they stared at her. He put his nose up to sniff her and yelped as it hit the invisible barrier.

He whined as Hermione continued to stare at him. She took a deep breath and stepped through the barrier to join him. The wolf sniffed her neck and Hermione stayed perfectly still. She knew that the potion was working, but the wolf was probably still quite disoriented from seeing her through different eyes.

Apparently satisfied, he sat down on his haunches and nodded his head to the pillows that Hermione had left out. She giggled at little. ‘Always a gentleman,’ she muttered, taking her seat beside the wolf.

Head still tipped to the side, the wolf leaned towards her very slowly with a small whine. He butted her hand with his nose and Hermione placed her hand on top of his head cautiously, stroking the soft fur behind his ears.

‘Hi Remus,’ she whispered.

The wolf shook his head at her.

‘You’re not Remus?’ She guessed, amazed that he was managing to have a conversation with her. He nodded and then shook his head in quick succession. ‘I don’t understand,’ she admitted. So much for being able to have a conversation.

The wolf padded to cave entrance and nodded his head towards the huge silver orb which caused his transformation.

‘I know that’s the moon, silly.’ She muttered.

The wolf rolled its eyes at her and nodded towards the moon more vigorously.

And then she understood. ‘Oh, you’re Moony.’ The wolf nodded its head and loped back to her side, his paws making very little sound on the rock. ‘But you’re still Remus too, aren’t you?’ She qualified.

Moony nodded his head at her before pushing it back under her hand. He wanted his ears scratched, Hermione thought with a smile. It made sense, after all this was the first time he had ever been around something with opposable thumbs without wanting to eat them. He snuffled at the exposed skin of her wrist and Hermione pulled back. ‘Stop it,’ she scolded, ‘that tickles.’

Moony huffed a laugh before lying down at her feet and allowing her to stroke the fur on his back.

‘You know, you’re kind of beautiful.’ She said. Another snuffly laugh escaped from his snout. ‘No really,’ she said, ‘but you still kind of look like you normally do. Same colouring, same long legs.’ He huffed again and she added dryly, ‘Same sense of humour.’

She saw the playful glint in his eye as Moony looked up at look one long lick at her cheek.

‘Ugh, Moony, seriously?’ He snuffled and she flicked him gently on the nose. He narrowed his eyes at her in what looked like a playful manner.

He seemed happy, she mused as Moony relaxed into her touch. Maybe after they stopped running she would try to talk to Snape, maybe she could persuade him to brew the potion for Remus. She knew that it was expensive, so she might have to talk to Dumbledore about persuading him.

If only the Ministry would make life a little easier, she sighed. Things like making the Wolfsbane available to lycanthropy sufferers would make his life so much better. Remus would no longer feel like a monster, and she would be able to ensure that he didn’t have to spend the full moon alone any more.

Hermione jolted a little when she realised that she was planning far into the future with that sentiment. She wanted to be in Remus’s life, she just wasn’t quite so sure as to her role in it. all she knew was that she had to stop his death at the hands of the man who she had seen in the Malfoy library.

‘I have a confession,’ she whispered to Moony as he continued to watch her closely. But it was the man she was addressing. ‘I wanted to kill him, Remus. I know I said it before but... You know even this morning I thought about it, finding him?’ She confessed, revealing what had really been going through her mind when they were reading. ‘I could do it, not easily but it could be done. I could find him and then you would never be in any danger from him. Neither would I.’

Moony rose from his spot on the floor and pressed his nose into Hermione’s neck. He opened his mouth and caught her neck between his jaws. If Hermione hadn’t spent so much time researching werewolves in Third Year she would have been terrified. As it was she remembered some titbit of information that this was how wild wolves showed their dominance. Without words she understood what he meant: Remus wouldn’t let her. He had told her that she was better than that and he apparently intended to ensure that she stayed that way. The pressure wasn’t enough to hurt her but when he removed his mouth Hermione still performed a scouring charm to remove the traces of wolfy saliva he had left.

‘Alright, alright,’ she sighed. ‘No killing of maniac ex-Death Eaters.’

Moony let out another little whine as he returned to her side.

‘You didn’t hurt me,’ she reassured him and he gave her a lopsided, very wolfy grin. ‘You’re ridiculous,’ she said with a smile. ‘But I’m not afraid of the Big Bad Wolf yet, don’t worry.’

She settled in for the night, stroking his fur and telling him lighter little anecdotes about her time at Hogwarts and with the boys to keep her mind busy.

/-/

He could feel the moon beginning to wane as Hermione continued to talk to him. He pulled himself off the ground and tugged at the bottom of Hermione’s jumper to get her to stand. He only had a few more seconds before...

He butted her gently out of the cave with his head and retreated back into the corner out of her line of sight.

‘Remus, what on earth are you doing?’

He barked a warning as his body began to transform back. She had been patient and accepting, but she didn’t need to see this. He had just enough energy to pull his shirt and jeans back on before he collapsed to his knees, spent from the transformation.

‘Remus!’ She gasped, spotting him kneeling on the floor. He felt her hands on his face, checking him for any signs of injury.

‘I’m fine,’ he reassured her, ‘just tired.’

The worry in her eyes lessened only slightly. She produced some of her little white tablets and performed the same spell as before, giving them to him with a bottle of water. Remus swallowed them and ate the chocolate she forced into his hand before she charmed their tent to set itself up. The normally roaring pain of the experience was only a dull ache, lessened even further as he felt the medicine she gave him kick in.

‘I want you to drink this, too.’ She held another potion out to him. ‘It’s a tonic for your muscles, to help you recover quicker.’

‘More Severus is missing?’ The blush on her face confirmed it as he smirked and drank the potion. He almost choked as he realised it tasted like blueberries, exactly like the smell of her shampoo.

Hermione knelt next to him and wrapped and arm around his waist, helping him over to the tent.

‘Get some sleep,’ she said, helping him lie down.

Remus looked up at her tired eyes. She hadn’t slept in as long as he had and she was bound to be exhausted.

‘But what about you?’

‘I’ll be alright for another few hours.’ She said, starting to back out of the tent.

‘We’re safe, nobody would come looking for us in the daylight,’ he coaxed. ‘Come and get some sleep.’ He knew what he was asking but she needed sleep.

‘I’m fine,’ she lied again.

‘Hermione,’ he took her hand in his. ‘Don’t be stubborn.’

‘Pot, kettle.’ She muttered and he gave her what he was sure was a sleepy smile. She dug about in her bag for a minute before passing him the tracksuit bottoms and Tutshill Tornados Quidditch jersey he usually slept in. Hermione muttered a spell under her breath which left him wearing them, now holding his jeans and shirt instead. She did the same for herself, changing into the flannel bottoms and t-shirt that made up her own usual sleep attire. It was a handy little spell and Remus tried to commit the spell to memory, but he was simply too tired. He would ask her in the morning.

On the verge of sleep, he noted that Hermione enlarged their only sleeping bag before joining him. her foot skimmed the back of his leg and she muttered a quiet apology. She turned to face the other side of the tent and Remus found himself suddenly side awake despite his fatigue. It was only a matter of minutes before she fell asleep and he watched her, feeling like some crazed stalker.

She turned towards him in her sleep, muttering unintelligibly. Remus started in fascination, he had never been close enough to hear her mutter anything in her sleep before. He hadn’t even been aware that she did it.

She was so beautiful, he thought as she watched her. She looked like an angel, her wild hair spread across the pillow and her eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. The embarrassing reaction started again as she shifted closer to him and laid her hand on his chest. He smiled as she mumbled again, but his breath caught when, among the unintelligible mumbling of her sleep-talk, she whispered his name. ‘Remus.’

He kept watching her, waiting for her to talk again, but she remained silent. What had it meant? Was she dreaming of him? Remus felt his chest constrict. Could it be that she felt this spark between them as much as he did?

Despite how tired he was, his mind was working overtime. Even if Hermione did feel as he did (and he seriously doubted it) they could never be together. He would be no good for the angel sleeping beside him. He was broken, he would never be able to give her the life she deserved. He was too poor and too dangerous. He would never be able to be the man she deserved.

Finally, his weariness won out, but not without Remus wondering what all of this meant. Really, he thought, it wouldn’t matter.

He woke up the next morning with his arms around her, face buried in her hair and his thigh between her legs while her head rested on his shoulder. Quietly, he disentangled himself and left the tent. It was the best he had ever felt after a full moon and he really had no inclination to move, but he to get up before Hermione woke up and found him invading her personal space.


	15. We Keep on Waiting, Waiting

Unbeknownst to a sleeping Remus, Hermione had actually awoken before him that morning, each of them wrapped around the other. She knew that she couldn’t move without waking him, and so she watched him sleep. Watched and considered her feelings for him.

She knew that it wasn’t a good idea to develop feelings for a man whom she had known happily married and with a child. Really, she did. But she grudgingly admitted that there was a very high possibility that she was falling for the younger version of Remus she had met here in 1982. She didn’t think that she was quite there yet, but she could no longer ignore the pull she felt towards him.

Of course, there was still the issue of affecting the future to consider. Could she really give her heart to this man who may or may not fall in love with Nymphadora Tonks at a later date? And that was assuming that their relationship would even last that long and that he returned her feelings. She was almost sure that he did, but she didn’t know if it was her or her cause that attracted him. Would he still feel the same way about her once Hermione had completed her mission or even if (Merlin forbid) they failed?

In addition to this, there was the nagging feeling that Hermione tried to shake off about Ron. Of course Ron had kissed her before the battle, but they had both thought that they were probably going to die and Hermione hadn’t had the heart to tell him that it had felt like kissing a relative. She supposed that it didn’t matter here, where Ron was only two years old. Maybe someday she would see him again, but she had given up his friendship as well as Harry’s to try and ensure that both of them would have better lives.

Maybe the key was to not over-think it, she considered. Maybe she should stop fighting her feelings and, for once in her life, just see where they led her. After all, she found that she couldn’t deny them anymore.

She had never had cause to consider it back in her old world, but Hermione found the twenty-two year old Remus very attractive. Everything she had noted about him that was different in this world seemed to draw her in. He was handsome, with his sandy hair, amber eyes and broad shoulders but Hermione was under no illusions that his body was perfect.

She knew that there was a reason that she had yet to see him bear his arms or his chest to her. She also noticed the thin scars which peeked out of his collar when he moved. But such things did not matter to her. The fact that he was a werewolf didn’t even matter. Suffers from lyncanthropy, she corrected in her own mind, Remus should not be defined by something he cannot control. She had never been unduly worried by appearances. While Lavender and Parvati had gushed about Oliver Wood’s good looks at school, Hermione had chatted to him about what he thought about the political relations between the English and Scottish members of the Ministry.

There needed to be something more than a pretty face for Hermione to find a man attractive and, while Remus was undoubtedly good looking, it wasn’t his looks that drew her in. Remus Lupin was one of the kindest, most loyal and compassionate human beings that she had ever met. She had always known this, but being on the receiving end of all of these qualities had given her a new perspective on him. He had been there for her unconditionally when she had no one to turn to and nowhere to go. He had helped her work through some of the most important decisions of her life and now he was accompanying her to try and help. He had given up his job and his house at her request. Granted, it had not been solely for her but he obviously trusted her judgement. It could be that her feelings for this man ran far deeper than she had previously recognised.

She tried to go back to sleep, feeling secure in his strong arms.

/-/

When she woke for the second time Remus was awake and pottering about. She listened to him for a few moments before making an appearance.

Hermione changed into her clothes quickly and unzipped he tent, smiling as she saw Remus sitting beside the fire with a cup of tea. He handed her one silently as she sat down beside him, returning her smile with his own lopsided version.

He was still suffering from the effects of last night, Hermione knew. She passed him another two amplified paracetamol and a sympathetic smile. Her quick eyes also couldn’t help but notice the little twinge of pain he gave as he stretched out to take them from her hand.

‘What’s it like?’ Hermione asked curiously, ‘Being a wolf?’

His answering gaze was levelled and cautious. ‘Different.’

They stared at each other, Hermione unsure of how to continue. However, as Remus started talking again she realised that she hadn’t offended him with her prying as she had thought initially.

‘Usually it’s like not being in control of my own body,’ he said slowly, ‘it’s like... I can see what the wolf is doing but I can’t do anything to stop it. He could attack someone I love and I would just ahve to watch. When I’m in wolf form it’s... I’m aware of the bloodlust but I don’t feel it, if you understand? I feel nothing at all.

‘That’s what it’s always been like for me,’ Remus sighed, capturing Hermione’s hand in his. She studied his face and found it full of gratitude. ‘Last night was the first time I’ve been able to feel anything during the full moon. I don’t know how to thank you for that.’

/-/

He had been telling the truth, Remus later thought; he didn’t know how he would ever repay Hermione for all that she was doing for him. Though her shy request to hear stories about his days at Hogwarts was one he could easily grant. She had only ever known the older Remus and Sirius, she said, and relished the chance to learn a little more about their younger selves. And James. Every anecdote Remus gave her about her friend’s father was greeted with enthusiasm.

‘It wasn’t until the end of our sixth year that James actually had the courage to ask Lily out, you know?’ He shared, ‘Up until then it had all been stupid stunts and lines like “Hey, Evans, you and me for Hogsmead this Saturday”.’ Remus smiled indulgently at the memory of one particular instance where Lily had pushed him down a flight of stairs. She had of course ensured that he fell on the pillow at the bottom, it had always been Sirius and James that had never thought of the consequences of such actions. ‘Anyway after... well after a rather serious incident in sixth year,’ he say Hermione’s eyes narrow momentarily before she nodded, she had already told him that she knew about Snape’s discovery of his lycanthropy, ‘He matured quite a bit that summer. I think it was eventually the fact that he left Lily alone for more than a day that eventually piqued her interest. Maybe it was actually his apparent lack of interest that prompted her to say yes when he asked her out at the start of the new school year.’

‘Or maybe it was that she gave him a choice,’ Hermione interjected and Remus listened to her opinion, ‘after all, we always like to feel like we have choices, even if we don’t.’

It was hard for Remus to simply take such a comment at face value. He knew that her choices had been all but taken from her and yet she never complained. He knew all about lack of choice, of course, Remus thought bitterly. He only hoped that he accepted his lot in life as gracefully as Hermione did. She truly was an inspiration.

Shifting slightly Remus tried to contain the groan that resulted from the change of position in the muscles of his back. He should have known that Hermione wouldn’t miss it.

She sighed gently before moving to sit behind Remus on the stone floor. ‘Is this alright?’ she asked as she began to work the muscles in his back. Remus nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The last time she had done this it hadn’t ended well, he had taken advantage of her kindness. Thankfully it wasn’t long before Hermione picked up the conversation again, asking what Sirius had been like at school.

‘Sirius was... different,’ Remus finally settled on. ‘Obviously you know his family background and that alone made him an unlikely friend for the son of the “blood traitor” Potters, a half-blood werewolf and a boy who had nothing to distinguish himself aside from his apparent foolishness.’ Talking about Peter still hurt but, Remus noted, at least it was distracting him slightly from Hermione’s hands on his back. ‘The Blacks were all about appearance and I think that may have later been a factor for Regulus being pressured to join Voldemort but Sirius was interested in appearances in a very different sense.’

‘He wanted to distinguish himself from his family as much as possible,’ he heard Hermione guess, her breath tickling the side of his left ear. Remus had to bite his lip from moaning as she hit a particularly tense spot. Keep talking!

‘Yes, I believe that was always his intention. He loved Muggle Studies in school, bought a motorcycle, refused to wear anything that even resembled green and eventually joined the Order of the Phoenix. I think, however, it would be unfair to Sirius to say that his family was his only motivation,’ Remus mused, ‘it would be easy to think so but there was more to him than that. He rebelled against his family because he knew what they were telling him was wrong. He had one of the strongest convictions of right and wrong that I’ve ever seen and he was always fiercely loyal.’

‘Possibly one of the reasons that he took the form of a dog,’ Hermione suggested quietly.

‘Maybe,’ Remus agreed. ‘We always teased him that it was because his crush at the time, Emily Hopkins, always said that she liked dogs.’

‘Was he a ladies’ man at Hogwarts, then?’ The woman asked with a huff of laughter.

‘Not at all. He was, if you’ll pardon the expression, all mouth and no trousers.’ He heard another huff of laughter close to his ear. ‘Sirius acted all cool and confident in front of the girls at school but he was too busy mucking around with James to even notice them most of the time. He had a few girlfriends but none of them last more than a few weeks, really.

‘When he tricked Snape that last time it affected him as well as James,’ Remus confided, something which he had never told another living soul, ‘he told me that he had betrayed my trust and he didn’t blame me if I never forgave him because he didn’t know if he could forgive himself. After that he was like a different man, it was like he suddenly realised that he had responsibilities as an adult that he was never prepared for. His parents had brought him up within the mindset that he was a Black and that he could, therefore, do whatever he wanted. Once he realised that he had continued in that way it was like the last, final bit of influence his parents had over him.

‘Through the whole of our last year Sirius worked harder than ever but he also started to read more into what was happening outside Hogwarts as the Death Eaters began to become more prominent. It was Sirius who eventually suggested that we join the Order after school, to fight for something bigger and more important than ourselves. I always wondered how he knew it even existed but I would suspect that Dumbledore had something to do with it.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ Hermione murmured.

Her hands had stilled on his back now as she came back round to sit beside Remus once again. ‘But in answer to your original question, no, he was never as much a Casanova as he would have had many believe.’

Hermione smiled slyly. ‘And what about you?’

Feeling the blush rise in his cheeks Remus poked at the fire to give him something to do. ‘I think you already know the answer to that, Hermione. After all, how many girls to you think want someone as damaged as me?’

Remus excused himself to go and take another nap, mostly as an excuse to get away from the now increasingly awkward conversation.

Just as he was about to fall asleep Remus could have sworn he heard her mutter something under her breath but she was too far away to make out the words.


	16. I Don’t Think Now is the Best Time – Part 1

She protested when Remus said that he felt ready to go after the ring, she really did. He was still recovering from his transformation but he insisted that he would be alright.

‘I’ll be fine, Hermione,’ he sighed as she tried to put him off the idea once more. ‘Every moment we stay is another moment Sirius is suffering in Azkaban.’

She bit her lip. What Remus was saying made sense, after all it was what she had been saying this whole time, but she didn’t want to risk Remus’s health. She knew it was incredibly insensitive to even think but Sirius had survived twelve years in Azkaban, a few more days wasn’t about to kill him now.

But she had given in. Remus was a grown man and she couldn’t force him to do something he didn’t want to. Tpday they were going after the ring, only a day after the full moon, and that made Hermione very nervous. Harry had been given the ring by Dumbledore and the only thing she knew was where it resided and not to wear it before she broke the stone with her dagger. It was going to be a long day.

As she splashed some water over her face and down her neck, Hermione was aware of Remus watching her. He had taken to his self-imposed task of helping her very seriously, and she wondered how much he had been motivated by the connection she felt between the two of them.

After the events of the last few days Hermione knew that she was going to have to confront the tension between them at some point but Remus began a conversation about how best to approach the next horcrux and her attention was diverted. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

Remus had been determined that they would not need the cover of nightfall to visit the house and Hermione had grudgingly agreed. She knew that the chance of encountering another human being on the property was extremely slim.

On arrival, Hermione noted that the house was overgrown and looked like no one had visit in years. That was a good sign indeed. She walked up the path cautiously, on the look-out for any danger. But the house appeared peaceful. She sensed rather than heard Remus following her silently across the garden, his wand drawn. She fervently hoped that he was as ready for this as he said.

‘Alohamora,’ she whispered, pointing her wand at the door handle. Nothing happened.

‘Hermione?’ Remus queried from behind her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the door as silvery runes started to appear across the wood.

‘Only the pure may succeed,’ she translated roughly from memory, before adding in an undertone, ‘oh, for goodness sake!’

‘Alohamora,’ Remus whispered at her side and Hermione heard the locks clicking into place on the other side of the door. He shrugged at her. They should have expected something like this and it made Hermione anxious as to what other muggle-born booby traps they were likely to encounter. Remus pushed the door open slowly with his wand tip and stepped in ahead of Hermione.

Even though the sun was shining very little of its light managed to permeate the cottage. The windows were blackened with grime and disuse, Hermione created one of her blue fireballs to light the space.

It was small, with only three rooms as far as she could tell. She almost shrieked at the carving of a snake which hung on one of the dingy walls, but she controlled it. She heard Remus try to ‘accio’ the ring, but it didn’t work.

‘It’s definitely here,’ she said, ‘we’ll just have to search manually.’

And they did. For twenty minutes they worked in relative silence pulling out drawers and searching for any holes in the stone walls.

Hermione knew she was watching him, watching for that little twinge in his expression that would show he was putting too much strain on himself. Especially his back, she thought, that was where he seemed to ache the most after the full moon and she was sure that sleeping in a tent hadn’t exactly helped matters this month.

And there it was, Remus stumbled and dropped an ornate silver platter. Hermione caught it with her bare hands, though it was a close call, dropping her wand in the process. Still, the sound of the piece of wood hitting the ground wasn’t nearly as loud as the scream that the platter omitted at being touched by the hands of a...

‘MUDBLOOD... FILTH... UNWORTHY OF THE ARTS... CORRUPTER OF SOCIETY... THIEF OF MAGIC!’

The look of apology in Remus’s eyes turned to absolute panic as the plate continued to scream at Hermione. Hermione shook her head and bent down to retrieve her wand to silence the platter. Neither of the noticed the movement until it was too late.

The carving had not been a carving. The huge snake, woken by the noise, sprung from its perch on top of the fireplace. Hermione screamed and reached for her wand, but she was too slow. The animal hit her legs out from under her and sunk its fangs deep into Hermione’s abdomen.

The pain shooting through her body blinded Hermione for several seconds. She could hear Remus shouting her name as he shot curses at the snake.

‘The knife,’ she finally yelled, ‘Remus, the knife.’

Trying to ignore the burning sensation, Hermione drew the knife but her arms would not cooperate to do anything else. She felt strong fingers pry it out of her hand, followed by a shriek she had heard before. Nagini was dead and the horcrux that Hermione had assumed would be in a forest in Albania was destroyed.

‘Hermione?’ Remus asked, his arms around her shoulders, holding her head up off the ground.

‘The ring,’ she coughed, feeling the blood soak through her top. ‘Get the ring.’

She knew it would be somewhere near Nagini’s hiding place and Remus found it in seconds. She heard the scream of the dying portion of soul. Hermione fought to keep her eyes open, but everything was blurring in and out of focus. She reached her hand down to her stomach and felt the warm sticky liquid coating her shirt and seeping onto the floor.

‘It’s done,’ he said, cradling her head. ‘It’s destroyed.’ His voice cracked a little, ‘Hermione...’

She could feel the venom spreading through her veins. Hermione tried to recall what she needed to say, something about Harry and the Chamber. Suddenly it came to her. ‘Dumbledore, phoenix tears,’ she choked, the burning in her abdomen making it difficult to breath. ‘Hogwarts,’ she hissed out.

Remus apparently got the message. He lifted her off the ground and Hermione felt the ground beneath her disappear and reappear with a pop. The burning intensified as Remus moved. Hermione registered the green of the surrounding forest and the coolness of the morning mist that still lingered. She shivered and felt another pain shoot through her body from the sudden movement. She knew that she was dying.

They shouldn’t have gone after the ring, Hermione confessed to herself as she heard Remus struggle to catch his breath, he wasn’t fully recovered and they weren’t ready. She could almost feel the pain rolling off him.

‘Remus,’ she panted, unable to catch her own breath as the poison spread. He looked down at her momentarily and she used the last ounce of her strength to press her lips to his. ‘Just in case.’

And then everything went dark.

/-/

He couldn’t make his legs move fast enough as Remus carried his dying companion up to the castle. She wasn’t heavy, but carrying a dead weight wasn’t an easy feat. He hoped that phrase wasn’t literal.

Not again, please not again.

He had not yet fully recovered from the transformation but still he had told Hermione to push on today. It was his fault that she was dying. He hadn’t been alert enough. Now, it was only adrenaline keeping him moving, his body fatigued and ready to give out. He focused his energy to sent a silver wolf bounding up to the castle in front of him. After what seemed like and age he reached the front doors just as Dumbledore and a rather harassed looking Madame Pomfrey were rushing down the stairs towards them.

‘Headmaster,’ Remus managed to gasp out. ‘She was bitten by a snake. She said phoenix tears.’

Dumbledore nodded quickly and rushed off to his office while Remus took Hermione to the hospital wing. Remus looked at the gaping wounds on her stomach with horror as the matron laid her out flat on the bed and did her best to wash the deep gouges.

Please let her be alright.

The last fifteen minutes of his life felt like an hour, and yet everything had happened so quickly. Remus stepped back to let Dumbledore and Fawkes do their work. He had never seen the phoenix before, but Hermione had told him of its existence. It was beautiful, the red and orange plumage looking like real flames as Fawkes sat next to Hermione on the edge of the hospital bed. And yet Remus could not concentrate on seeing such a legendary creature for the first time. If only he hadn’t dropped the damn plate Hermione wouldn’t have been hurt. It was all his fault. Maybe he should have let he do this alone.

The wounds fizzed and closed over before his eyes, and yet Hermione did not stir. Remus placed his fingers at her wrist. He could still feel her pulse, becoming more steady as they waited.

‘Will she be alright?’ He asked of Madam Pomfrey.

‘I’m not sure,’ the matron answered, ‘her body was beginning to shut down but now... it’s like she’s frozen. We’ll need to administer some sort of healing and revival potion before we know. She’s lost a lot of blood as well. Maybe you should take her to St Mungo’s.’

‘No!’ Remus protested quickly. ‘I mean, surely it would do more harm, moving her?’

‘Poppy,’ the headmaster addressed her, ‘consult with Severus and have him make the potions, immediately.’ The matron hurried off and he turned to Remus. ‘What happened?’

‘We were attacked,’ Remus said cautiously, ‘that’s all I want to say until she wakes up.’ If she wakes up.

Remus stumbled a little on his feet. Now that the adrenaline was running out the pain of his newly reconnected bones was making itself known once again. To his immense relief Remus watched as Dumbledore conjured two chairs out of mid-air and sat down in one himself, leaving the one closest to Hermione empty. Remus fell into it gratefully before picking Hermione’s bag off the floor and summoning himself some of the little pills she had enchanted for him before. He repeated the spell and swallowed them dry, reluctant to leave her even for a moment.

It was all his fault, he reflected sadly, if only he hadn’t dropped that stupid plate. He should have listened to Hermione when she said he wasn’t ready, wasn’t as alert as he should have been. He had come with her on this mission to help her and instead he had managed to almost get her killed. He still might, he thought morosely, she wasn’t safe from the poison yet.

Snape was working on her at the minute, fussing over the heartbeat and the deathly pale of her skin, trying to work out what potions to brew. Remus remembered the last time they had encounter Snape (though the man himself hadn’t known it) and the pure rage he had felt eminating from her at how his former classmate treated him. Remus had felt it was completly justified, he had almost killed Severus once. What if Hermione felt the same way when she woke up? what if she could no longer stand him because of what he had done to her because of his lycanthropy? She said she accepted him but there were more dangers due to his condition than either of them could ever have imagined, as evidenced by the woman lying on the bed.

Lost in his thoughts, Remus didn’t move again for a few hours, when Dumbledore insisted that he take one of the spare beds and try to sleep. As much as he tried to protest, Remus felt his body agreeing with her. Madam Pomfrey would wake him if anything happened.

/-/

When he woke up a few hours later it was pitch dark. Remus checked the clock and found it to be the early hours of the morning.

‘There has been no change, Remus,’ Dumbledore’s voice called to him as the lights in the room suddenly all reignited at once. Remus blinked against the light as his eyes fell on Hermione once again. ‘But she is strong and healthy,’ the older man continued, ‘so I do not think that it a bad sign.’

He had done this to her, he knew that. It was all his fault. She looked so fragile as her chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly. Her skin was deathly pale and looked even more shocking against the white of the hospital bed. They hadn’t taken enough time to plan their move for the ring and it had cost them dearly. They had succeeded but Hermione was near death.

‘Professor,’ Remus said quietly, I have to tell you something.’


	17. I Don’t Think Now is the Best Time – Part 2

Fire, pain.

Salt, fusion.

Blackness, nothing.

/-/

Remus took her cold hand in his, willing some of his limited warmth and energy into her frail body. She needed to live, needed to see what they had achieved. But Remus knew that he needed her too.

‘Why did you tell me this, Remus?’

Remus looked at his former headmaster, thinking how to try and explain. He should feel surprise that Dumbledore had believed him but all he felt was cold.

When he looked at Hermione lying on the bed he wondered if it had been worth it. The guilt that followed was almost overwhelming. She had known all along the risks involved with her plans. Not only that, but she had been prepared for them. She knew that she might die and she had made her peace with that idea. From the way she talked of her past Remus was almost certain that she had been willing and ready to die for Harry and his cause from the time she was only eleven years old.

And that was why he couldn’t let all her work be in vain. The plan had not reached its conclusion yet. There was still an innocent man in jail and a guilt one masquerading as a household pet. He wasn’t completely at ease with what he was about to do but it was what Hermione would want.

She would want it finished, he thought to himself, Hermione would want me to keep going.

He could have made some excuse about the Weasley family being more likely to trust Dumbledore or something similar but Dumbledore had always known when he was lying.

‘I don’t want to leave her.

/-/

An hour later Remus tried desperately to think about the task at hand. It had been his decision to tell Dumbledore and go to the Burrow. Despite the man’s near insistence that he should accompany him Remus remained by the woman who had stolen his heart, knowing only too well that he would be useless to Dumbledore. He was too distracted both by Hermione’s condition and his own revelation. When her lips had touched his, he had realised. He loved her.

It was as simple as that. He knew he wasn’t good enough for her but that brief kiss she had given him while dying in his arms had given him hope that she might feel the same way as he did. If she survived, he would give her anything she wanted. She might regret it and he would be able to deny her nothing, even if it meant him no longer being a part of her life.

She had never treated him as anything other than an equal, even though she had known about his condition from the start. She had been a good friend and she was willing to die for what she believed in. Remus couldn’t imagine a more perfect woman.

/-/

Dumbledore reappeared an while later as Remus was being hassled out of the room by Madam Pomfrey who said that she had waited quite long enough to change Hermione out of her bloodied clothes. Remus desperately wished he could remember the spell she had used on him only a matter of hours ago. He was being forced from her side and the pain was tangible.

The older man approached Remus, levitating a glowing golden ball in front of him as he went. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Remus saw the grey haired traitor squirming in his restraints.

‘Is this definitely him, Remus?’ Albus asked.

Remus gritted his teeth. ‘Oh yes, that’s him alright. Right down to his nineteen toes.’

‘Ah yes,’ the headmaster nodded, ‘his finger was found at the scene.’ He regarded the rat for a few more moments before turning to Remus. ‘I shall call an emergency meeting of the council for the morning. Be ready to leave at nine, Remus.’

‘Why?’ he asked in confusion, glancing back at the closed doors of the ward. What the blazes was taking the woman so long to change Hermione’s shirt?

‘I might need you to testify.’

Remus gave a short, hollow laugh. ‘It will be my word against the rat’s and who would trust a werewolf?’

‘Hearing the same truth from two different people who haven’t been in contact will be good enough, I hope.’ Dumbledore said, his brow furrowing. ‘I have no doubt that Sirius will have worked out the whole story in the last year.’

‘You want to put Sirius on the stand? They’ll listen to him even less!’

Dumbledore clapped a hand onto his shoulder as Remus heard the ward doors squeak open again. ‘Trust me, Remus. We will make them listen. But for now, go back to Hermione. And do one last thing for me? Tomorrow afternoon, remind me that I owe the Weasleys a new pet.’

Remus spent the remaining hours before morning fighting off sleep. He dozed off several times only to awake in a panic, needing to feel Hermione’s heartbeat and ensure that she was still clinging to life. Snape had been to see her and was currently preparing potions for her. He had sneered at the sight of Remus clutching her hand like a lifeline but had refrained from commenting

/-/

As promised, Dumbledore came for Remus just before nine and (along with their prisoner) they travelled to the ministry.

Remus watched as the members of the council all took their seats in the chamber while he stood behind Dumbledore’s chair, still keeping his wand pointed at the useless bit of filth squeaking in the golden bubble hidden from the council’s sight.

‘Remus, are you sure you won’t tell me what happened to Miss Payden?’ Dumbledore asked quietly as the seats slowly began to fill up.

Remus shook his head. Hermione will tell him herself when she wakes up. He resolutely ignored the niggling voice in his head that added, if she wakes up.

Once everyone was seated, the doors at the back of the chamber opened with a bang and a man Remus had not seen in about eighteen months was led in. He was bound in magical chains and flanked by four guards. His hair was longer and matted and his face was gaunt and dirty, but it was undeniably the same man who had been his friend since they were eleven years old.

The room erupted in protestations and Dumbledore called the meeting to order with a tap of his wand against the desk he stood behind. ‘Members of the Wizengamot we are here today, in light of new evidence, to discuss the conviction of Azkaban prisoner and accused Death Eater Sirius Black.’


	18. A Lesson Learned in Time

In her dreams she chased the two figures across the lawn. They danced before her, just out of her reach, until they came to rest at the edge of the trees.

And then they were joined by a smaller figure. Without the height of his mother or the horn of his father, but unmistakably their child. The family standing together.

The moon shone from through the trees and Hermione heard a faint howling in the distance but she was not afraid.

She slinked closer to the three standing together but the adults caught sight of her lurking form as she stalked through the grass and they bolted into the relative safety of the trees. Now their young was all alone.

Closer and closer she crept until her oval golden eyes meet his large mossy green ones.

But then the green eyes were gone, replaced by black slits and, baring his newly appeared fangs, he lunged...

 /-/

As soon as the Headmaster set out the agenda for the emergency meeting the council once again erupted.

‘He killed thirteen people!’

‘The whole street....’

‘He’s a murderer!’

Dumbledore tapped his wand on the podium once again, the amplified sound ringing through the chamber. ‘Members of the council!’ The din faded quickly. ‘We once believed that Mr Black was responsible for the death of thirteen people with the use of one curse, in addition to charges as an accomplice in the murder of James and Lily Potter. However, upon a visit to the residence of Mr Arthur Weasley and his family, Mr Remus Lupin noticed something that could clear Sirius Black of all charges of which he is accused.’

‘Why should we trust the word of a werewolf?’ A voice called out of the crowd. Remus did his best not to scowl. He should have known that the council would remember him, even though he was found innocent of any role in the death of James and Lily. He was marked down as a monster.

‘Because he has evidence to back up everything he says.’ Dumbledore explained calmly. ‘However, perhaps we should hear Mr Black’s version of events first, under the influence of veritaserum.’

There were a few grumbles, but overall the proposal seemed to be accepted. Dumbledore had made clear that this was the trial that he should have had a year ago and there were members of the council fidgeting in their seats, clearly starting to feel some guilt over the Ministry’s decision to send him straight to Azkaban. Sirius was handed the clear liquid to drink and he did so without complaint. He had yet to speak, and he had yet to make eye contact with Remus.

‘Please state your full name.’

‘Sirius Orion Black.’ His voice was raspy but strong and defiant. Hermione had told him that the reason he didn’t succumb to madness was that Sirius always knew that he was innocent. Now he was being given a chance to prove it and Remus recognised a familiar determination line of his spine and the way he held his head high.

‘Please give the council a full account of the events leading up to the death of the Potters, the events resulting in the deaths of thirteen people and your resulting capture and incarceration by the ministry.’

Remus knew that Dumbledore had not been head of the council for long but that didn’t stop his anger as he listened to his friend’s testimony, agreeing with everything that Hermione had told him. Even though he had expected it, as Sirius voiced his former belief that Remus could have been the spy, it felt like the knife in his chest was being twisted even deeper. The pain and the betrayal was meant to end with the war.

Everyone sat in stunned silence as Sirius told them all how Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them to Voldemort. He had become secret keeper and had sold out the Potter’s location and then tricked ministry officials into believing that it was Sirius who was the guilty one. Perhaps it wasn’t what he was saying, but the way he was saying it that had the most profound effect. The extremely lucid, well-spoken and determined young man surrounded by guards must have been a change from the other prisoners brought here to testify. He told the truth, but somehow Sirius was also still in control of his own mind enough to keep his identity as an animagus (and why he had felt the need for such a skill) a secret.

‘How do we know he isn’t immune to the potion?’ It was the same man who had shouted out earlier.

‘Or,’ a toad-faced witch dressed in pink called out, ‘maybe that story was what he was told by his master.’

‘As I have said,’ Dumbledore said, with a slight impatience to his tone, ‘we have evidence that Pettigrew is alive. Furthermore, Sirius Black never received the Dark Mark, therefore even if we work on the assumption that he was in league with Lord Voldemort the influence of any residual magic would have disappeared long ago.

‘Now, if I may ask the council a question. This gathering was responsible for awarding an Order of Merlin to Mrs Wilhemina Pettigrew. Do you, Mr Macnair, recall what was sent with that order?’

The wizard who kept inserting snide comments bristled slightly at being treated like a child. ‘A finger, everyone knows that. Black’s just given us his “version” of that.’

Dumbledore smiled slightly. ‘You are precisely right. Therefore, Pettigrew’s animagus form would be a rat missing a toe. Am I right, Madame Selth?’

Remus recognised the woman who affirmed this fact as someone who worked in the animagus registration office. He knew that Dumbledore was trying to give the council no choice but to see the truth in what Remus was trying to prove.

‘Excellent,’ the older man said, ‘Remus, if you would like to show the council our guest.’

Remus levitated the golden ball in front of Dumbledore’s desk and the room watched in fascination. All expect Sirius, whose back suddenly stiffened at the sight of both the rat and of Remus.

‘Madam Selth, if you would do the honours of a reversal charm, if you please.’

The witch pointed her wand at the rat and said the charm. They all watched in shock and revulsion as the rat grew to human size and lost its fur. The man who stood in its place was quivering in fear as he looked around at all of the members of the council with his watery eyes. However, it was only when he set eyes on a furious looking Sirius that he passed out in a dead faint.

/-/

While Pettigrew was unconscious, Sirius was removed from the stand but kept in the room. The blonde man had still been encased in the now enlarged magical prison Remus had created, but extra guards had been sent for while they dripped veritaserum down Pettigrew’s throat. The whole affair was passing rather quickly, Remus reflected as they revived his former friend. He just hoped that was a good thing for Sirius.

In the lull in activity he found his mind wandering back to Hermione and he prayed that she would survive. He needed her to be alright.

The quivering, shaking mess of a man who was forced into the stand at wand-point reluctantly corroborated everything that Sirius had said. Remus breathed a sigh of relief, unsure of what he would have done if, for some reason, the potion hadn’t worked. Instead, he fixed his stare on the sweating pile of filth that had murdered the two people who trusted him not only with their own lives, but with the life of their son. Remus didn’t think there was a punishment harsh enough to deal with his particular brand of treachery. He was even somewhat disgusted to note that, despite having lived as a rat for a year, Pettigrew looked completely healthy, even having gained a bit more weight. It made him sick to his very core.

Dumbledore once again commanded the attention of all those present as they erupted in conversation about these new developments. ‘Members of the council, we will put it to a vote. While the trial of Peter Pettigrew must wait until a later date in the interests of justice we must make a decision on the situation of Sirius Black. All those in favour of returning Mr Black to Azkaban please vote with a grey ribbon. All those in favour of full acquittal please vote with an orange ribbon.’

Remus watched as ribbons began to materialise on the secretary’s desk. The young woman quickly sorted them with her wand and called out the vote. ‘The council has voted in favour of the full acquittal of Sirius Orion Black, aged twenty-two, with only two votes being held against the motion.’ It wasn’t hard to guess who the two grey ribbons had come from.

Dumbledore nodded happily. ‘It is therefore my happy duty to inform Mr Black that he is cleared of all charges. Mr Pettigrew will be stripped of his wand and taken to Azkaban until his trial.’ Remus heard him quietly murmur in one of the guard’s ears as he passed. ‘And do make sure he can’t escape in his animagus form, that would be very bad business indeed.’

The members of the council began to file out of the room, and the reporters who had been allowed to hear the verdict as soon as it was announced were busy trying to harass them about the meeting they had been denied access to. They hadn’t even known what was being discussed until the verdict was reached.

Remus fought his way through the crowd over to where Sirius was. He wasn’t entirely sure what the other wizard’s reaction to him would be, but he couldn’t just leave without seeing him. At that moment, Sirius was being released from his magical bonds by his guards. Remus was rather glad that the ministry did not permit Dementors on the premises, he couldn’t have coped with that today.

‘Sirius!’ He called out as the other man moved away slightly.

Sirius turned towards him slowly, and Remus couldn’t read the unfathomable expression on his face as his grey eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ‘You great bloody prat!’

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again. ‘What?’

‘A year. You left my in Azkaban a whole year. Merlin, Remus, you’re meant to be the smart one. How did it take you this long to work it out?’ There was a hint of amusement about his voice, but it all vanished as Sirius grabbed his shoulders clung to him like a dying man as the tears started to fall. ‘Th-thank y-you.’

Remus nodded and patted him on the back awkwardly. ‘Er, you’re welcome?’

‘Sirius?’ Dumbledore stood beside them, looking faintly amused. ‘I feel I should offer an apology for my own actions in notifying the Ministry of your role as Secret Keeper. I had not been informed that the roles had been changed.’

‘’S’all right,’ he relied, still sniffing slightly as he relinquished his grip on Remus. ‘Not your fault. I just want to get on with my life now.’

‘Well, I’m sure Remus wouldn’t mind housing another unexpected guest.’

Remus groaned, Dumbledore really had to stop volunteering his house. Although, the last time it had worked out well for him.

‘Another guest?’

/-/

When Sirius had asked who else was living with him all Remus could think about was getting back to Hogwarts to check on Hermione. And so, dragging his newly freed friend along with him, he had returned to the school with Dumbledore.

News travels fast in the wizarding world and so he wasn’t completely surprised when people stared at Sirius marching through the school after Dumbledore and the man who had proven his innocence. Sirius didn’t yet realise where they were going, and kept up a never ending stream of teasing questions about his new houseguest until they turned into the ward. On seeing the woman lying on the bed, he fell silent instantly.

Madam Pomfrey was checking the dressings on her stomach as Remus took up his chair by her side again. ‘This is Hermione,’ he said quietly, feeling her wrist for her pulse. ‘She’s the reason you’re free. She told me about Pettigrew’s hiding place.’

‘What happened to her?’ Sirius asked, looking horrified by the paleness of her skin and the scars on her stomach. Now that the wounds had closed over Remus could see that her once flawless skin was marred by two white oval-shaped marks just above her left hip. He desperately wanted to run his hands over them, to feel that they were definitely closed, but he didn’t dare with Sirius and the headmaster looking on.

‘Is she any better, Poppy?’ He heard Dumbledore ask.

‘She’s had a healing draught, but Severus didn’t think it wise to wake her yet.’ The matron replied.

Remus could practically feel Sirius bursting with questions beside him, but he ignored him for the moment. He watched the slight rise and fall of Hermione’s chest for a few seconds before squeezing her hand and whispering a promise to be back as soon as he could.

He reluctantly left her side to show Sirius to his home. Fully prepared to simply return to the school straight away once he had done so.

/-/

It had been one of the longest days of his life. Remus often heard the sentiment repeated, but he never truly understood its full meaning until now. His body was exhausted, but his mind wouldn’t let him rest.

He had come back to the house and unwarded it to its usual security level before showing Sirius in. He had lent him some clothes and sent him to the bathroom while Remus set about making some sort of dinner. All Hermione had left in the house was a packet of pasta and some cheese. He supposed that would have to do. He threw the pasta on to boil while he waited for Sirius to re-emerge. After half an hour he thought that Sirius may have been taking a leaf out of Hermione’s book and was attempting to all but drown himself in the shower.

So it was a cold dinner that Sirius came down to but the speed at which he dug into it didn’t betray that fact. He looked much better now that he had cleaned up, though still in desperate need of a haircut. He had shaved and dressed in some of the clothes Remus had left for him. It was actually quite funny for Remus, seeing Sirius in his worn trousers and a slightly tattered shirt rather than the black dragon hide jacket he had favoured during their last few years at school and beyond. At least, it would have been funny any other time. As it was...

‘I’m going back to Hogwarts now.’ Remus announced in an almost toneless voice. ‘Sorry I’m sort of neglecting you, but you can just use whatever you need and...’

‘What’s going on, Moony?’

‘I just have to get back...’

‘No,’ Sirius barked out, before softening his tone. ‘What’s really going on? How did this Hermione girl know about Pettigrew?’

They both should have known that Sirius would ask that question but they had not discussed the answer. Hermione had said that she didn’t want anyone to know about where she had come from, but Remus highly doubted that he was going to be able to tell Sirius a lie he would believe.

‘I can’t tell you,’ he said finally. ‘If... When she wakes up, you can ask her yourself.’

‘Alright,’ he acquiesced, ‘but I’m coming with you and while you’re waiting for her to wake up, you can tell me exactly what I’ve missed.’

/-/

Remus washed up quickly before changing his clothes and travelling back to Hogwarts with Sirius. He had travelled up and down this drive more times in the last few months than he ever remembered doing during the same time frame when he actually attended the school himself.

Hermione was still asleep when they arrived. Remus told Sirius that she had been bitten by a snake, but refused to tell him the circumstances other than that he was there when it happened. As they sat vigil by her side, Remus told Sirius all that had happened after the war. Sirius was furious that Harry had been sent to live with muggles, but Remus pointed out that he would soon be able to file a petition to take him home himself, once he got adjusted to the outside world again.

‘What do you mean adjusted?’ He asked, confused. ‘He’s my godson, and if I want him home, then he’s coming home!’

And then Remus pointed out that that was a case in point.

Remus observed several things in those hours where the two conducted their near-silent vigil. He saw the deep gratitude that Sirius felt towards both himself and Hermione, even if he never fully expressed it in words. There were so many other things he could be doing with his first few days of freedom but he sat with Remus, waiting for the girl who saved his life to wake up.

He also did not expect Sirius to be the same as he had been the last time they had seen each other, but the lack of change was astounding. Remus wasn’t sure if it was all a front or not but he hoped, for everyone’s sake, that it was the latter.


	19. Maybe This Time I'll Win

She could hear voices but they were muffled.

‘... Snivellus get to be a teacher?’

‘Padfoot...’

‘No, seriously, I go to prison and he gets a cushy little job here...’

‘Black, I’m warning you...’

‘Oh shove off and examine the patient, Snivelly.’

‘Maybe I could if you two would sodding go home once in a while!’

The voices were getting clearer. Hermione tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy. She tried again and was rewarded by the bright light overhead. The image was blurry but she could make out three figures beside her, two with dark hair and one with lighter hair. There was no mistaking who the third figure was.

‘Remus?’ she rasped out.

His hand was on hers in an instant. His face, still blurred, leaning over hers. ‘Hermione? You’re awake! How do you feel?’

‘Confused,’ she answered in a hoarse voice before adding in a whisper ‘thirsty’.

‘Can you sit up?’ Remus asked. Hermione shrugged and tried to get up. She felt his arm around her, helping her sit. ‘Drink this.’ He pressed a cup into her hand and Hermione drank greedily.

As she blinked, the room came into focus but the only thing she was concentrating on was Remus. He was sitting sideways on the bed beside her, assessing her quietly. He looked tired, the rings under his eyes more pronounced than they had been last time she had seen him. She wondered how long it had been.

‘Where am I?’ she asked.

‘You’re at Hogwarts, in the hospital wing,’ he explained gently. ‘I did what you said, Fawkes saved you.’

‘You saved me,’ she whispered, ‘Remus, I...’

‘Aren’t you going to introduce us then?’

Hermione looked past Remus in absolute shock as she recognised the voice. Her eyes widened as she took in the form of a young Sirius Black, watching them both with amusement.

His raven hair was slightly longer than she remembered it being at his preferred length and his grey eyes sparkled. Like Remus he had obviously suffered under the effects of time and his imprisonment when Hermione had first met him, even from her place on the bed Hermione could tell that this Sirius was healthy and vibrant. He was wearing what looked like clothes belonging to Remus and, while they were slightly too long on him, the material was pulled tight over his arms and chest. Even the smirk that pulled up at the edge of his lips gave off the impression of him as young and mischievous in a radically different way than the forced optimism of his older self.

That was the most startling difference Hermione thought. Unlike when she had been fourteen, Sirius did not look like a man haunted. Rather, now he looked more like a man with a new lease of life. He certainly didn’t look like he had lost a year of his life.

‘I’m Sirius,’ he said, taking Hermione’s hand in his and kissing the back of it, ‘and I believe that I owe you my freedom, Miss Hermione.’

Hermione shot Remus a panicked look, but he shook his head. He hadn’t told Sirius who she was and she sighed in relief. She shouldn’t have doubted him, she thought, Remus had done what she would have wanted while she was unconscious. It wasn’t like she expected him to sit and wait for her to wake up. At least, that was what she told herself. But then, hadn’t Snape said something about them not going home.

‘Yes, yes, it’s all very touching.’ Severus Snape rolled his eyes at them. ‘Now, let me examine the patient.’

Remus moved away to give Hermione more room. She couldn’t tear her eyes from him and Sirius, sitting together as if the last year had never happened. Snape tested her reaction to light, her pulse but she still couldn’t look away from the other two men in the room.

‘She seems fine,’ Snape finally proclaimed. ‘Take her home and let her rest.’

‘You hear that, love?’ Sirius asked in a teasing tone. ‘You’re coming home with us.’

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at Remus. ‘Us?’

/-/

It hadn’t taken Sirius long to make himself at home, Hermione mused as she watched him sprawl himself out on the sofa and opening a butterbeer. After they had returned from Hogwarts, Remus had explained everything that had happened while she was unconscious. He also explained that Sirius would be living with them for a while, but confided in her that he wasn’t sure exactly how he would be able to afford it. The confession wracked Hermione with guilt but before she could offer to get a job or move out, Remus told her that he would sort something out.

Their salvation actually came only a week later. In recognition of the failings of its Magical Law Department (and probably to try and ward off any criticism which they knew he would be perfectly entitled to levy at them) Sirius was awarded substantial compensation for his wrongful imprisonment, from which he immediately demanded that Remus start charging him rent. It was enough for the essentials that the three of them needed and Hermione knew that Remus enjoyed having his old friend under his roof and getting to know him again.

Unfortunately that had meant having to clear out Remus’s parents’ room. Hermione had tried to help but he had told her that, after days of being unconscious, she was in no condition to do anything. Of course she had ignored him and sat and talked to him as he worked, trying to distract him from memories of more loved ones now gone.

Having Sirius back in the house did have its advantages; she knew that during the next full moon Padfoot would keep Moony company. But there were disadvantages as well. Hermione and Remus had fallen back into their old pattern of avoiding anything but purely platonic feelings between them. Anytime they got anywhere near discussing the kiss they had shared, Sirius would waltz in unannounced and the moment was ruined.

It was strange to once again be living alongside two young men and at times Hermione was reminded of the life she left behind. The camaraderie between the two was comfortable and familiar to Hermione but there were so many ways in which Remus and Sirius were different to Harry and Ron. For example, neither of the younger boys would ever have let Hermione cut their hair for them but Sirius had handed her the proverbial scissors and let her at it. The end result had been slightly longer than the current style but she knew that Sirius had always worn her hair on the longish side. She adamantly refused when Remus asked her to cut his, murmuring shyly that she liked it the way it was and ignoring Sirius when he commented that she was trying to turn Remus into a woman.

After the action-packed experience of hunting horcruxes, life seemed to slow down considerably. About two weeks after Hermione returned to the house, when Remus was once again out job-hunting, Sirius finally tackled Hermione with the question she had been dreading.

They had been sitting at the kitchen table. He was working on papers to apply for guardianship of Harry and Hermione was doing a little last minute cramming for the NEWT examinations Professor Dumbledore had managed to persuade Ministry to let her take. She wasn’t quite sure how he had managed it but she was, in her opinion, woefully unprepared having never completed seventh year at school. However, she knew that she could always retake them in June and if she passed them now it meant that she could get a job sooner and start contributing instead of freeloading. Not that she thought Remus minded much, any time she brought up the issue he changed the subject.

‘Hermione, how did you know about Pettigrew?’ Sirius ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she had grown used to over the last few days of him being around. ‘I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t see how you could have known.’

Hermione set down her books. It was (to her knowledge) the first explicit instance Sirius had given of wanting to talk about what she knew. Hermione was sure that Sirius thought he had been slick up to now, hiding little questions in normal conversation... but she knew him. She had seen the signs and knew that this was coming.

Nevertheless, he really did have the world’s worst timing. She rubbed a hand across her face and steeled her nerves. And then she told him the truth. She had been so wrapped up in her story that she didn’t hear Remus come in but, when she had finished, he was leaning against the wall behind Sirius with an unfathomable expression.

‘Wow,’ Sirius muttered, ‘you gave up a lot for us, love.’

Hermione simply shrugged. She wanted to say that she did it for Harry, but she wasn’t sure that was entirely true anymore. She knew that, at least in part, she had done it for Remus. The distance between them was killing her, but she knew that she needed to study for the exams tomorrow. She retreated to her room with her books and left the men in the kitchen.

/-/

‘She’s some girl,’ Sirius commented as he stared after her.

Remus tried to bite back the growl that rose in his chest. Hermione was his.

Except that she wasn’t. She had never mentioned the kiss after she had woken up and the only conclusion Remus could draw from that was that she regretted it ever happening. It was understandable, he supposed, she was dying. He couldn’t hold that against her. This wasn’t like her avoidance any other time, this time she had made the move, not Remus. It was up to her now to make a second move, but he had no idea the direction in which this would be. But he was starting to have some rather disturbing thoughts.

He trusted that Hermione hadn’t drawn away from him because of his condition. Remus knew the rest of the world’s reaction to him, but it had never been her reaction. She had no qualms in touching him in a friendly manner, and then she had kissed him. Being a werewolf wasn’t the reason she maintained a distance at all times, it had been because she was waiting on someone.

He had always assumed that she had stayed in this world for Harry’s sake, but now he was having doubts about this theory. Hermione had refused to tell anyone else the events which led her here, but yet she had opened up to Sirius after only a week. Remus thought about the way she had cried when she told him of Sirius dying when she was fifteen, the tears she had shed over him. She had been waiting on Sirius. He was the reason she stayed and Hermione would never be his, she had never wanted to be.

His emotions were all over the place. Remus was genuinely pleased to have his best friend back but he had followed the woman who loved him around like a lovesick puppy while she had implemented her plan to secure the safety of his world and her loved one’s freedom. She deserved someone like Sirius, he thought despondently, someone happy and healthy and whole. He knew that he could never compete successfully with him for her affections but living under the same roof as them both was going to be a torture. Maybe that was why Hermione kept bringing up the topic of her moving out. But Remus knew that she had nowhere to go and so (glutton for punishment as he was) he was prepared to beg her to stay. Just so he could see her every day.

The hand waving in front of his face notified him that Sirius was alert to his mental tangent. He forced a small smile and muttered something about thinking about jobs. It seemed to appease Sirius for the moment, as he casually suggested that Remus should team up with Hermione and be a Dark Artefact Finder full-time.

He knew his answering smile was forced, but Sirius never commented on it.

/-/

As Remus predicted, Hermione had already left for her exams before either of the men woke up the next morning. It was December and outside the ground was coated with a light dusting of snow. Remus spent the day scanning the Prophet for job possibilities while Sirius had left for the day for meetings with the Ministry about securing guardianship of Harry. That was another worry, Remus mused. When Sirius gained custody of Harry he would probably have to buy his own house and find a job, as well as finding someone to look after Harry in the day time. That meant that Remus really needed a job before his friend/lodger moved out.

Hermione returned just before dinner time, pink faced but smiling widely. Somehow she had managed to sweet talk the examiners to mark her exams then and there considering there were only four papers. Hermione showed him the official Ministry document containing the four O’s before Remus swept her into an enthusiastic hug. She felt so right in his arms for the few brief seconds before Sirius arrived home and interrupted them. Remus felt his face flush with guilt. He wasn’t who she wanted.

‘I was thinking,’ she murmured as she stowed her certificates in the living room.

‘Uh oh,’ Sirius muttered jokingly, elbowing Remus in the ribs, ‘I assuming that it’s always dangerous, when she thinks.’

‘I want to go to the Ministry and tell them about the horcruxes.’

Remus felt his jaw drop open. ‘Why?’

Hermione shrugged, taking a seat at the table where they had planned their last adventure together. ‘The world needs to know, think about it. If we told the Ministry then we implicate Lucius Malfoy. The diary is still in his library!’

‘Yes, but Hermione that would admit breaking and entering into three properties and a Gringott’s vault.’

‘Three?’ Sirius asked, looking confused.

‘I, um, forgot to tell you that we... borrowed your father’s silver dagger.’ She said blushing. Sirius just laughed. ‘But I don’t think that they’ll care much that we did that once they see the results. And I’ll say that Regulus gave me the dagger, it’ll provide a story for how I found out that Voldemort had horcruxes in the first place.’

‘I don’t know,’ Remus said cautiously, ‘how would you have known Regulus?’

‘Dumbledore made up papers saying that I attended Hogwarts. Hermione Payden is now officially registered in this world.’

‘But how will you avoid being put under veritaserum?’ Remus asked, picking holes in her plan as he had done previously.

‘They only do that when they’re unsure about the evidence.’ Hermione explained, ‘I have all the evidence we need.’

‘We?’

Hermione’s cheeks turned pink. ‘I was hoping that you would come with me, Remus.’

‘I think it’s a good idea,’ Sirius said, twirling his newly purchased wand between his fingers. ‘Then you’ll both get the credit you deserve.’

‘I don’t want credit,’ Remus mumbled. And he didn’t. The less attention he drew to himself, the better.

‘Please, Remus. For me?’

Reus looked into her wide, toffee eyes and could deny her nothing. ‘We’ll go to the auror department tomorrow.’

‘Excellent,’ Sirius commented. ‘I’m going to another meeting tomorrow, so we can all go together.’

Terrific, Remus thought sarcastically.

/-/

The evening routine had rather changed since Remus had returned home. Sirius was adamant that reading was good in small quantities but proclaimed it ‘boring’ and ‘antisocial’ for Remus and Hermione to spend the evening buried in their respective books. Of course, Sirius had never been one to just enjoy someone’s company, something had to be happening. Remus was perfectly content to sit in comfortable silence with Hermione but Sirius twitched and fiddled until he demanded that someone play chess with him. Remus had beaten him three times in a row as Hermione watched with a smile and that had been the end of chess.

The next night had been cards, but Hermione hadn’t known how to play any wizarding card games. Sirius suggested strip poker and Hermione had blushed and left the room for the night. That was the end of cards. Gobstones had suffered much the same fate as chess, with Sirius throwing a tantrum when he was beaten, it took two games before he gave up.

That evening, however, after dinner Hermione produced a box from her room.

‘It’s called scrabble,’ she explained, ‘you get letters and then you have to make words.’

It had really been more of a game for Remus, but Sirius’s competitive nature had not allowed him to sit out participation. He had taken the game very seriously and, to their shock, the game had ended with all of them scoring the same amount of points.

‘You must have added it wrong.’ Sirius winged as Hermione bit the end of her pencil and looked over the board and her tally sheet again.

‘No I haven’t,’ she said crossly, ‘you’ll just have to wait for a rematch.’

Remus huffed a laugh as they watched the man throw himself into the armchair and cross his arms. Hermione joined him with a small giggle before she bid both men goodnight and headed up the stairs. That was just one more thing Remus missed. Even though it had only happened once, he missed the sensation of Hermione’s body against his. Sleep did not come easy for him that night.


	20. The Same Damn Things, It’s Just a Different Day

She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with Sirius’s flirting. As they travelled to the Ministry together, Hermione bit her tongue against the angry words that threatened to spill over. She knew that Sirius had the view of her as some sort of hero, just as she thought Remus might, and it made her doubt whether she was making the right decision in going to the aurors.

‘So,’ Sirius continued as he walked with them to the department offices, ‘really, what do you say Hermione? Dinner tomorrow night?’

Her eyes widened as Sirius took her hand. ‘I... We have to go, Sirius,’ she stalled, ‘we’ll talk later.’ She pulled away from the man and walked past Remus into the offices. Neither said anything as they waited to be seen by one of the secretaries, but the look on Remus’s face was simply unfathomable.

When they were noticed, Hermione asked to speak to Alistor Moody. It was only then that Remus spoke. He told her that Moody was still new to his role as one of the more senior members of the department and they might be better asking for someone else, but Hermione held her ground. They needed someone who was as no-nonsense as Mad Eye.

The imposing figure of the auror led them into one of the interview rooms and Hermione and Remus told him everything about the horcruxes. Moody sent for an unspeakable to come and verify that the locket was what they said it was before dispatching a team to retrieve the diary from Malfoy Manor and take Lucius Malfoy into custody. Hermione was rather impressed, she had always believed the auror department to be slow moving, much like the muggle police. However, it made sense that they were still winding down from operating full-time under a wartime framework and were, therefore, able to move quickly. Their story was verified by the raid and by the aurors who went to the Gaunt house. The department handed the diary and Nagini’s body over to the Department of Mysteries for further testing and released a statement mid-afternoon. The news was all over the evening press.

When Hermione and Remus emerged from the office of Moody (thanking him profusely for believing their story) they were immediately inundated by reporters. She really shouldn’t have been surprised, she guessed, no doubt Skeeter was always buzzing about the atrium looking for news. The odious woman herself was staring at the pair with her bug-like eyes. She glowered at the woman who had, as yet through no fault of her own, tortured both Hermione and Harry four years ago. Hermione felt Remus wrap a protective arm around her shoulders as they navigated the crowd as questions rained down from all sides.

‘Do you think we can safely say now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead?’

‘Are the two of you dating?’

‘Remus, how do cope with your condition?’

Hermione glanced at Remus when she heard the last question. Apart from a slight tightening of his jaw he gave no indications of hearing anything.

‘Let’s go home,’ she said softly, placing a calming hand on his chest.

Remus nodded and led her over to the floo gates.

/-/

Hermione was selfishly pleased to note that they had managed to beat Sirius home. As she threw her shoes off at the door and went to put the kettle on.

The meeting had gone better than they ever could have hoped for. But Remus didn’t know exactly why Hermione had wanted to reveal their secret to the world. She wanted to change the wizarding world’s perceptions of werewolves as inherently evil. She wanted to change their minds about the man she loved. The man who was currently regarding her with a blank expression as he leant back against the kitchen table. They needed to talk, and Sirius wasn’t here to interrupt them this time.

‘Remus, we...’

‘So, you and Sirius.’ Damn, apparently he could still interrupt.

‘What about Sirius and I?’ Hermione said irritably.

‘I’m happy for you,’ he said in a voice which obviously contradicted his words, ‘just wanted you to know.’

Hermione was confused. Did he actually think she felt something for the other marauder? ‘What do you mean?’

Anger flashed in his amber eyes as Remus continued in his adopted monotone. ‘Just, you know, he makes you happy. You deserve someone like him.’

And suddenly it was all starting to make sense. ‘What do you mean “someone like him”?’

Remus shrugged, ‘Someone happy and healthy and... whole.’

Hermione narrowed her eyes. ‘Remus, I know that you haven’t lived it yet, but I am sick of people having this conversation with you!’

He looked taken back by her sudden outburst but then the anger returned. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Of course you don’t!’ Hermione shouted, ‘You’re too damn blind to see what’s in front of you!’

‘I see what’s in front of me perfectly.’ Remus seethed, pushing off the table and advancing towards her. ‘I see why you did everything you did. I know that you used me as a way to get Sirius back. And I can’t even be mad about it, because you brought back my best friend and saved the world doing it!’

‘You are an idiot!’ Hermione shouted, even though they were practically nose to nose. ‘You think I did all this for Sirius?’

Even the day at Grimmuald Place in her old world she had not seen the wolf so obvious in his features. He was mad as hell, and his amber eyes were practically gleaming. ‘I know you did,’ he hissed.

Hermione knew that she shouldn’t let her emotions propel her next move. She knew that she should think about it calmly and rationally but she also acknowledged that a lot of her decisions thus far in 1982 had not been made by being calm and rational. So, instead, she grabbed the lapels of his shirt and crashed her mouth against his.

This was nothing like their last kiss, tentative and brief. This was full of passion, as Hermione pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. His reaction was instant, and Hermione felt herself being crushed between the sideboard and Remus’s body. His tongue plundered her mouth and Hermione let out a small whimper. ‘Remus...’

His hand was in her hair, tilting her head while his lips left hers to trail open-mouthed kisses down the side of her neck. Hermione shivered against him as his hands moved to her hips and lifted her to sit on the edge of the counter, bringing their bodies perfectly in line. She slipped her own hands under his shirt and across the planes of his abdomen. Remus froze, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. It took a few seconds for Hermione to understand why.

The skin of his stomach was covered in raised lines, scars from his transformations. He looked at her with apparent terror as she continued to rest her hands there, before moving them slowly down to his hips.

‘Hermione, I’m not...’

‘I love you,’ she breathed, unwilling to hear his explanations and excuses for one moment longer. ‘I didn’t do it for Sirius, I did it for you.’

/-/

He didn’t believe her. It was as simple as that. One minute he had had her pinned against the kitchen counter and the next her was staring at her like she was insane.

‘Hermione,’ he choked out, ‘I’m not... I’m not good for you.’ And he wasn’t, she deserved more than what he could ever give her, he would always be half a man, plagued by his condition and unable to provide for her like Sirius could.

But you love her, a traitorous voice in his head whispered, you could never stand to see her with another man. It’s in your nature, she is yours. Remus winced at that thought, fighting against the possessiveness he knew was another side effect of his lycanthropy.

Her face fell instantly. Even though she still wore the effects of his lips on hers and his hands in her hair she looked upset. ‘Yes, you are.’ She raised one of her small, warm hands to the side of his cheek and slid it down his neck. Remus winced as she found another scar. ‘I love you, just the way you are.’

He lowered his eyes, staring at her chin. ‘But you deserve...’

‘I want you,’ she said firmly. ‘Do you... I thought that you felt the same way.’

He didn’t know why that had ever been in question. ‘Of course I do. I love you, Hermione,’ he mumbled.

‘Then let that be enough,’ she pleaded, ‘I don’t want Sirius, or any other man that you might feel would be more “deserving” of me. I want you. I want the man who has been by my side through this whole experience. I want the man who opened his house and his life to me. I want the man,’ Remus winced as she trailed her fingers over the raised bite mark on the juncture of his shoulders and neck on the left side, the one that had made him what he was, ‘but I also want what makes you who you are, who you have become. I want the wolf too, Remus. I want all of you.’

‘And are you prepared to live as an outcast?’ He looked in her eyes as they took on an odd, hard glint.

‘I have all I need right here,’ she said, ‘and before you say it; I don’t care about money either. But I don’t think that either of those will be a problem after today, Remus. You’re practically a hero in the eyes of the wizarding community, you brought down Voldemort.’

‘That’s why you wanted to go public, isn’t it?’ He asked, suddenly understanding what today was all about.

‘In part,’ she agreed, ‘but I also wanted to prove that the war is over, that we can all get on with our lives.’ Hermione sighed, ‘I want to be part of your life, Remus. We’ve both been avoiding these feelings for weeks but I want to start my life with you.’

Despite the foreboding that invaded his mind, Remus was filled with an overwhelming feeling of hope. Anytime he had grown close to a girl before, she had run when she found out who he was. Now, here was a woman who had known from the start and had never thought anything less of him for it. She was here, offering her unconditional love and acceptance and he was being a fool and making her feel like it was unwelcome.

She calls to you, the voice he now recognised as Moony whispered in his head. As long as she is here, you’ll never even look at another human girl. She is your mate, human. She belongs to us. She accepts us.

Remus continued to stare into Hermione’s eyes. There was one final question he had to ask her before he replied to her confession in earnest. A question that had plagued him since he found out that she was from the future. He drew a deep breath and steeled his nerves. ‘Is it really me you love or is it, you know, the older me?’ He had always wondered if the man Hermione saw was the one she had known in her time or if she saw him as he was now, in his present.

He had expected her to take offense, but Hermione laughed. ‘You really are running out of excuses. I love you, Remus. The man I knew before was a great man, but I never saw him the way I see you.  
I’m not quite sure how many times you need to hear it before you believe it, but I’m prepared to say it every day for the rest of my life.’

‘I believe you,’ he whispered.

Hermione smiled widely at him. ‘I thought I would have to fight you more for this,’ she confessed, still drawing patterns in the skin of his neck. ‘I thought it would take hours and hours of shouting.’

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ He asked, smiling as she blushed prettily and nodded quickly. ‘Then I won’t fight you, Hermione. I could never deny you anything.’ He took one of her small hands in his. ‘When I thought you were dying,’ he explained slowly, ‘then I promised myself that if you survived I would do anything to make you happy. I knew that there was a high possibility that you only kissed me because you were dying but...’

‘No,’ Hermione interrupted, her cheeks now positively scarlet, ‘it wasn’t like that. I’ve... I’ve been there before and, well, I knew it was different with you.’ Remus continued to regard her in confusion. ‘I kissed Ron, before the battle, before I came here,’ she said to her feet, ‘but as soon as it happened, it felt... it felt like kissing a sibling. With you, it was... it was just... more.’

Remus watched with mild amusement as the normally extremely verbose Hermione struggled to express her feelings. It looked like it was something they had in common. He brushed a strand of her hair away from her face before capturing her lips slowly, softly caressing her cheek. ‘That should have been the way our first kiss went,’ he explained softly. ‘Not as a last resort and not as a way to shut me up.’

He watched as Hermione blushed slightly, meeting his eye with a shy smile. ‘I think our way rather more suited us after the indifference we’ve been putting on the last few weeks.’

Remus chuckled as he moved back, closer to Hermione where she still sat on the counter. He was suddenly very keen to see more of this new, flirty side to Hermione. ‘Nice to know you weren’t complaining.’

He heard her breath catch as his nose ran along the edge of her jaw. ‘Definitely not complaining.’

The moan she made as his tongue invaded her mouth again reverberated through his body. Remus growled in response and pulled her hips closer to him. If he had known that Sirius had walked into the room only seconds later he would have been embarrassed that they were snogging like teenagers in the kitchen. The fact that he missed him, even with his heightened sense, only proved the power Hermione had over him.

As it was, the black haired man backed out of the room quietly, smirking to himself. ‘Took them long enough,’ he muttered to the toddler sleeping in his arms. ‘Just as well I managed to get a house for us, isn’t it Harry?’

Predictably, Harry said nothing.


	21. The Key to Unlock You

Hermione woke up the next morning a little disoriented. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she felt the warmth of Remus’s body behind hers in the bed and the weight of his arm across her waist. She must have fallen asleep in the living room and he had carried her upstairs with him. She couldn’t say that she minded, exactly, but the assumptions that she could draw from this were slightly uncomfortable.

As she felt Remus stirring beside her, Hermione willed herself not to think of such things now, but as he pressed his body against hers, a rather prominent part his anatomy was extremely evident.

‘Morning,’ he rasped and Hermione shivered.

‘H-hi. Um, did you sleep well?’

She could feel his nod as he nuzzled the back of her neck affectionately. ‘Very. I hope you don’t mind that I brought you up here. I didn’t want to be away from you.’

Hermione stuttered, ‘I... well... that is to say...’

Remus stopped immediately. ‘I don’t... expect anything of you, Hermione. I just, I wanted to be close to you.’

She breathed out a sigh of relief and turned to face him. ‘Then no, I don’t mind.’

‘Good,’ Hermione smiled at his sleepy expression as he kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘Would it be too forward of me to ask you to stay here every night?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, pulling back slightly. ‘I mean, everything else has been so fast. I just...’

Hermione watched as his face fell slightly. It was only for a brief second before he put on a smile again. ‘You’re probably right but at least I get to have you in the same house.’

‘Yes, about that,’ Hermione said nervously. ‘What are we going to tell Sirius?’

As loath as she was to bring up the reason for their initial argument last night Hermione knew that they had to talk about it before she talked to Sirius. It didn’t stop a look of panic flitting over Remus’s face before it was replaced by an anger that she wasn’t entirely sure was pretend.

‘That he can’t have you.’ Remus said simply.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh really.’ It was her turn to be angry now, she moved away from Remus to sit up on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m not some possession for the two of you to squabble over.’

‘No,’ Remus said behind her back, ‘that’s not what I meant at all.’

‘Then what did you mean?’ She asked crossly.

She saw Remus narrow his eyes slightly at her hostility. ‘I meant that I won’t give you up, alright? I meant that it is in my nature to be possessive, Hermione, because Moony sees you as ours and so I do too. It’s part of the lycanthropy.’ He lowered his eyes at that, looking ashamed at his confession ‘But I’m trying so hard to fight it because I trust you when you say that you love me and not Sirius.’

Hermione opened and closed her mouth wordlessly. She knew enough about werewolves in general to know that possessiveness was a general quality, a pack trait. His loyalty had always been unwavering (and she supposed that was the other side of the same coin) but she had not spent enough time around Remus in her former life in order to have observed how far he demonstrated a typical possessive nature. She was still slightly stunned but Hermione knew that she had read the intentions behind his sentiment so completely wrong. She had thought that Remus was simply being possessive over an object but now she saw the truth behind his words. He loved her, with both parts of himself, but he was fighting part of his nature because he trusted her unconditionally.

‘You have to understand, Hermione, that to me you will always be mine,’ he said, turning the amber eyes so full of shame and apology to her, ‘but for me there will never be another woman on this earth that will ever hold my attention. I will always belong to you as well.’ He paused, cautiously reaching for her hand where it lay on her lap. ‘Tell me if this is too much,’ he pleaded, ‘say something, anything.’

She had always considered herself somewhat sympathetic to feminism but now Hermione saw a flaw in her previous relationships. Her brief courtship with Viktor Krum hadn’t worked out because they had been so very different people and he had always been in control (albeit unconsciously for the most part) of where they went or what they did and so on. Ron had been the exact opposite. Throughout their friendship it had always been Hermione who had taken control of situations and had been the dominant one in their dynamic. She had a feeling that had they ever attempted a romantic relationship Ron might have grown to resent that.

But with Remus things were different. They belonged to each other, an equal partnership. They were both so alike and Hermione had never met anyone who could quite infringe on her temper in the way Remus could. They challenged each other, neither of them was in complete control and (for once) Hermione realised that she didn’t want to be. They provoked each other and argued with a passion that she had never felt towards another human being but she knew that Remus loved her. That was what he had been trying to tell her, that he loved her and trusted her, but that he wasn’t about to lose her to another man now that he knew he held her heart. Instead of being afraid of his potential to be territorial, Hermione felt more loved that had before. Remus was opening up to her with what she was now sure he considered one of the most shameful aspects of his condition and he was letting her make her own decision about whether she wanted to stay with him or not. And he was waiting on an answer.

‘I love you,’ she said clearly, meeting his eyes with a determined gaze. ‘You’re right, I didn’t understand, but we have to work through things like that together, Remus. I’m sorry I let my temper get the better of me.’

Remus looked shocked. ‘I thought...’ he choked, before pulling Hermione to him in a tight embrace. ‘I thought I’d lost you for a minute.’ His voice was rough with emotion as placed kisses all over her face. ‘Merlin, you scared me, ‘Mione.’

Despite everything, Hermione gave a small smile. ‘You’ve never called me that before,’ she noted as she ran her hands up his back, ‘I like it.’

‘Are you sure you want this?’ He asked against her hair and Hermione could feel his practically vibrating with nerves.

‘I overreacted,’ she said, turning to meet his eyes once again. ‘I’m sorry. I think we both just need to be a little more open with each other about what we mean.’ Remus nodded. ‘But my answer to that question is never going to change, Remus.’ She leant up and kissed him with everything she had and Remus groaned into her mouth before pushing her away gently.

‘We’ve fought twice and we still haven’t resolved the issue.’ Hermione stared at him blankly. ‘Sirius?’ he prompted and she blushed. ‘Had you forgotten?’ His teasing tone was a welcome change to the strain of the last few minutes.

‘You happen to be very good at distracting me.’ She said with a smirk.

Hermione was surprised to note that he actually blushed at this. ‘Yes, well... What do we tell him?’

‘That I’m with you?’ Hermione suggested, sounding like a question. ‘Honestly, I’ve come to see Sirius as the older brother I never had. I don’t want us to affect that and I would hate for the two of you to fall out over me as well.’ She would feel terribly guilty over that, giving Remus his best friend back only to be the cause of a rift between them.

‘We won’t, ‘Mione.’ Remus reassured her. ‘I suppose we have to face the music at some point.’

Hermione sighed, not wanting to leave the comfort of his arms. ‘Fine, you can use the bathroom while I start breakfast.’

She giggled at the chaste kiss he gave her. ‘Lie here a bit longer,’ he whispered, ‘let me spoil you with breakfast.’

Hermione sighed once again, lounging on the bed. ‘Hm... sounds perfect.’

/-/

The sound of water running upstairs alerted Remus to the fact that Hermione hadn’t been able to stay inactive long enough for him to bring her breakfast in bed. He chuckled to himself, he really should have predicted that.

The air had been cleared somewhat between them this morning as to where exactly they stood in this new relationship but as he felt Hermione’s arms wrap around his waist Remus was struck with a sudden thought.

‘What are we?’ He asked as he flipped the eggs.

‘Magical, hungry, making breakfast?’ Hermione suggested, mumbling against the back of his shirt.

‘No,’ he huffed a laugh and looked down at the witch. ‘What are we? Sirius is out but when he comes back we’re going to have to tell him. Except that... we’ve never really qualified what this is.’

‘I don’t know.’ Hermione mused, and Remus watched as the wheels started to turn in her head. ‘I suppose that boyfriend/girlfriend is appropriate but...’ she trailed off.

‘But it’s more than that?’ Remus suggested and Hermione nodded. ‘I suppose that we’ll just have to conform to society on this point, ‘Mione.’

She smiled and lifted the glasses of orange juice he had poured over to the table.

‘Would you please just sit and let me make you breakfast?’ He complained as he charmed bread to toast.

‘No,’ she said cheekily, flitting around him to grab the cutlery, ‘I want to help.’

Eating their breakfast with only one hand each was challenging, but Remus was reluctant to lose the physical contact of Hermione’s hand in his, their fingers intertwined on top of the table. They ate and then cleared the table together in comfortable silence before Remus charmed the scrubber to wash their dishes for them.

‘What’s the plan for today, then?’ He asked, as Hermione received his daily copy of the Prophet from the newly arrived owl. He followed her into the living room, thinking that he would really have to cancel that subscription. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to afford it.

‘I don’t really have a plan any more,’ Hermione said slightly wistfully, ‘maybe we should create one of how we’re both going to get jobs.’

Remus snorted. ‘You getting a job won’t be a problem with those grades. Just don’t think you have to go looking for one just because I’m not working, I know how your head works.’

Hermione rolled her eyes over the paper as she read the front page. ‘I’ve lived in your house for months without giving you anything towards expenses, Remus. It’s about damn time I started contributing.’

‘Yes, well, nobody pays you for saving the world, do they?’ He asked sarcastically, as he watched her continue to read her paper.

Remus had grown to be quite wary of the smirk that twisted Hermione’s lips at that moment. She passed him the paper. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’

A picture of the two of them emerging from Moody’s office took up half of the front page under the headline

_**Voldemort Vanquished** _   
_Werewolf Saves Wizarding World_   
_By Rita Skeeter_

_Unbeknownst to most of the wizarding population of Great Britain plans for a second war were foiled over the course of the last month by lycanthropy sufferer Remus Lupin and his companion Hermione Payden, both former students of Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry. While even the Ministry so quickly assumed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been defeated forever by Harry Potter on 31 October last year, Lupin and Payden uncovered evidence of a backup plan, in which the Dark Lord planned to resurrect himself using certain dark artefacts. While the Ministry is refusing to comment on its failings in this regard and exactly what the artefacts are, this report can exclusively reveal that Lucius Malfoy was yesterday taken into custody in relation to allegations that he was harbouring one of said artefacts._

_This comes on the back of the release of Sirius Black only days earlier and, of course, the larger issue which now comes to the foreground is the Ministry’s failings in regard to the rights of Mr Lupin as a werewolf. For decades the Ministry had operated under the assumption that those sufferers of lycanthropy..._

Remus skipped over the last part, he knew what the assumptions were.

‘The Remus I knew in the future once told me that he regretted that the first war changed nothing about the hate people hold for others.’ Hermione said gently as she came to sit on the arm of his chair. ‘I hope that we did something to change that.’

Remus was stunned. Most of the world he lived in had known about his condition since he left school and had to legally declare it, but he had never before been met with a reaction that was not influenced by prejudice or hate. Apart from Hermione no one had ever looked past his condition and now he was being used as a sort of rallying call for better rights for those who fell under the jurisdiction of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It was incredible.

He pulled Hermione down to sit across his knee of the sofa and peppered her face with kisses. ‘You.’ Kiss. ‘Are.’ Kiss. ‘A.’ Kiss. ‘Genuis.’ He looked at her flushed face. ‘Remind me never to get on your bad side if this is what you can do.’

He watched as she smiled. ‘I didn’t do anything. I am slightly disappointed that I’m only your “companion”, though.’

Remus chuckled and kissed her soundly on the lips. ‘So that title’s out then?’

‘Definitely,’ she said and returned her lips to his.

Every time they kissed it felt different but Remus still got lost in the feel of Hermione. Everything between them came so naturally that he found it difficult to be shy, even with his very limited experience of dating. He wanted to her Hermione about her own history but knew that to do so today would be pushing his luck. They had already fought twice in two days and he didn’t want to add another argument to the list.

He felt Hermione lay one her hands against the skin of his stomach as she had yesterday evening. She stilled and her eyes silently begged permission to touch him as she whispered ‘I love you’ in the silence of the empty house. Remus kissed her slowly and languidly in answer and he shivered as her hand slid up to the base of his neck and back down again, her nails scratching lightly at the skin. He groaned into her mouth and pulled at her hips, moving Hermione to straddle his thighs. She pressed a kiss just under his ear and started to tug at the buttons of his shirt with one hand, the other still drawing lazy patterns on his abdomen as more of it was revealed to her. With each bit of his marred flesh revealed Remus grew more uncomfortable, willing himself to listen to her as Hermione whispered into his ear again and again, ‘I love you’.

With the last button undone Hermione returned her mouth to his, her hands lying flat against his chest. He thought that she seemed content like that, not needing anything more than just to feel his heartbeat under her fingers. He could hear it thundering in his own ears along with hers. This was not like the passionate, hurried embraces of yesterday. This was about them learning each other and about being comfortable as they were.

‘I love you too.’ He muttered as Hermione’s lips found the spot under his ear again. ‘You have... no idea.’

He was so busy staring at Hermione that (for the second time) Remus failed to notice that anyone had entered the house.

‘Get a room!’


	22. Never Felt This Way

The voice startled her and Hermione tried to jump up off Remus’s lap but, to her surprise, his hands on her hips kept her firmly in place. Instead he manoeuvred her legs to sit across his lap as she had been before.

‘We did have the whole bloody house.’ He grumbled as the other man took the seat opposite them. Hermione raised her eyebrows at why he hadn’t let her up until he shifted his hips slightly. Ah, that was why.

‘You’re such a moody git, Moony.’ Sirius said, twirling his wand between his fingers. ‘You could still accept my offer for dinner, love, it’s not too late.’

Hermione was ninety-nine percent sure that he was teasing, but she still felt the growl in Remus’s chest. She smiled as Sirius winked at her. He knew exactly what he was doing in torturing his friend. ‘No thank-you, Sirius. I won’t be available for dinner until you decide to bump Remus off.’ She had to laugh as Remus looked up at her in shock. ‘He’s only doing it to tease you, Remus.’ Hermione knew that Sirius might still harbour some sort of crush on her, but the look on his face was evidence enough to show that he would do nothing about it as long as Hermione and Remus were both happy.

‘Anyway,’ he said, clapping his hands together, ‘since you two lovebirds clearly haven’t noticed, I’m moving out. I’ve bought a house just outside Godirc’s Hollow with the money from the Ministry and Harry and I moved in last night.’

She really should have been concerned that neither she nor Remus had noticed that Sirius hadn’t come home last night, but all Hermione could think of was the fact that Harry was where he belonged: with Sirius.

‘He’s asleep in the kitchen if you want to see him,’ Sirius said, obviously noticing the look on her face. Hermione silently asked Remus permission to leave his lap. He smiled and let her up.

The little boy was asleep in a carry-cot device on the kitchen table. Hermione snickered at the lengths Sirius had already gone to, as it came complete with a miniature enchanted snitch contained in a glass ball on the handle to keep Harry entertained. He was so small, Hermione mused as she watched him. She reached out to touch the hair that fell over his lightning bolt scar and his eyes opened slowly, revealing the clear green colour that she remembered. She felt her own eyes begin to fill with tears as he continued to look at her curiously, grabbing one of her fingers in his own small fist. She would never be best friends with this Harry but seeing him was easier than she anticipated. Because of what they had done Harry would live a happy and full life and that was worth what she had sacrificed.

He was a surprisingly quiet child, she mused as she picked him up out of his seat. She placed him over her shoulder as she had seen many women do countless times before and headed back to Remus and Sirius. She stopped just outside the door when she heard them talking about her.

‘... not going to pull the moves on your woman.’ Sirius said.

Hermione smiled wanly, remembering her earlier conversation with Remus. Apparently he remembered too. ‘She’s not mine, she’s free to do whatever she likes.’

‘Yeah well, I think that would be you, mate.’ Sirius suggested crudely and Hermione felt her cheeks flame. She was grateful that Harry had fallen back asleep on her shoulder.

‘Don’t be so crass,’ Remus scolded, ‘it’s not like that.’

‘Really?’ Sirius asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. ‘From what I saw last night and this morning it’s exactly like that.’

Oh Merlin, Hermione thought. Sirius must have seen them last night in the kitchen. She tried to control the burning in her cheeks as she stepped into the room to rescue Remus. She sat down next to him and gave him Harry to hold as they chatted with Sirius about what he was going to do now.

‘Honestly? I dunno,’ he admitted, ‘I need to get a job. I mean, as much as I’d like to take some time and get used to having Harry around, I don’t see that being possible. I’d thought of being an auror before,’ he continued, ‘they’re still crying out for new recruits but it would mean long hours for the first few months and I’m not sure what I could do with Harry.’

As much as she would like to offer to look after Harry for him, she hoped that both she and Remus would be employed soon as well. It seemed that all their problems now boiled down to money, Hermione thought wearily. She had grown up in a comfortable, middle-class home but now she could see how Mrs Weasley had always been tight for...

‘Molly Weasley,’ she said suddenly. Both men stared at her. ‘You could ask Molly to look after Harry for you in exchange for a small wage. That way Harry’s looked after and the Weasleys have a bit more income...’

‘You still trying to make the world a better place, H.P.?’

H.P., Hermione Payden. Hermione laughed as she realised that her new initials were the same as the little boy asleep beside her. ‘Of course, but you should really think about it.’

Sirius shrugged, ‘Sounds good to me. I’ll go and see Molly later, then. Don’t think she’ll remember me from the Order but we’ll see.’

‘Have you heard of anything else opening up?’ Remus whispered, being careful not to wake Harry as he continued to stare at him in absolute wonder.

Sirius pulled a piece of parchment out of the pocket of his new purple (sorry, grape) robes and handed it to Hermione. She was shocked to see a list of jobs written down on it along with a personal commentary on Sirius’s suitability for them. She didn’t think she would ever be able to live down the shame of Sirius Black being more organised than her.

‘I had to show I was looking for employment before they would give me custody,’ he explained, seeing the shock of Hermione’s face.

She read down the list, hearing Remus chuckle at some of the comments as he read over her shoulder.

_Auror – long hours for training_

_Potion brewer for St M’s – will smell like Snivellus_

_Mediwizard –don’t want to curse someone’s arm hair off (again)_

_Shop assistant in Zonko’s – will get fired for playing with merchandise_

_Assistant at Athena’s Spa – will get fired for playing with customers_

_Bar tender at 3 B’stick’s– wish to keep my balls by avoiding Rosmerta_

_Dragon handler – not suitable for life with Harry_

_Unspeakable – lack ability to keep gob shut_

_International Quidditch superstar – woefully out of practice_

_Stay-at-home-godfather – don’t have any money_

_Knight Bus driver – can’t drive_

_Herbologist for St M’s - boring_

Hermione smirked as she read down some of the list. ‘That’s quite a wide selection, Sirius.’

He shrugged, taking the bit of parchment back off them. ‘There was a few more but I didn’t consider them. Like working for Lovegood’s new magazine The Quibbler. Never got on with the man at school. Dumbledore’s looking for a new Defence teacher too, hasn’t been able to find once since June. Nobody wants the job since it’s apparently cursed and all. Personally, I just don’t think I would be able to handle that many teenagers in the one place.’

Hermione’s breath caught. Of course! The position wouldn’t be cursed anymore now that Voldemort was dead once and for all and that meant...

‘Write to Dumbledore,’ she said to Remus, ‘ask him for the job.’

/-/

Remus laughed. ‘No one in their right mind is going to want me teaching their children, Hermione.’

He knew where her suggestion was coming from. She had told him before that in her past she had been taught by the other Remus and that he had been the best teacher they had ever had. But that was in the other world and Hermione had previously admitted that once the parents found out what he was he had been forced from his post. In his world, the whole of the wizarding community now knew what he was due to Skeeter’s article. There was no way Dumbledore would ever accept him to teach.

Nevertheless, even after Sirius left later that afternoon to go and see Molly Weasley, Remus was still thinking about it. Ideally he would love to teach; he had always wanted to but had never thought it possible. Was the tide now turning so much that he might be accepted by the rest of the community? He didn’t know, but as Hermione scanned over the list of jobs in the Prophet he found no others that appealed to him even slightly. He told Hermione this and she smirked.

‘It’s because you’re meant to do this,’ she said almost gleefully, ‘you know I’m right.’

So that night he wrote a letter to Dumbledore to send the next day when they went into Hogsmead for some shopping. He crawled into bed beside Hermione and kissed her on top of her head as she hummed contentedly and shifted closer to him.

‘I only want you to be happy, you know,’ Hermione whispered into his worn t-shirt. ‘I’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.’

‘I know,’ he said simply.

‘I sent off an application today too,’ she told him. ‘I applied for an entry level position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.’

Remus looked at her in surprise. ‘Isn’t that a bit of a conflict in interests?’

Hermione chuckled sleepily. ‘Why do you think I applied for it?’

/-/

The next day they sent their letters. Rather than simply hanging on and waiting for replies, Hermione decided that they should both keep looking and Remus agreed. They spent the rest of the day scanning through the paper and writing various letters before making another trip back to the Owl Office in Hogsmead before it closed at five.

The rest of the week passed in similar fashion, job hunting during the day and relaxing in front of the fire at night. It was very much like the routine they had settled into when Hermione first came to live with him but Remus was pleased with the obvious differences. He now got to kiss Hermione as often as he wished, and he was extremely and deliriously happy.

As they had agreed Sirius and Harry came for dinner the next Friday night. Remus had teased him about forsaking the pubcrawling they had all assumed he would have engaged in if not for Harry in order to join his best friend and said friend’s girlfriend for a game of Scrabble. He told them than he had applied for the auror training and had worked out a deal with Molly Weasley if he was accepted. They all knew that he would be: the Ministry couldn’t afford the bad press of not giving him the job after he told them that Rita Skeeter had seen him going in and out of the offices to drop off a letter. His acceptance was merely a technicality to Sirius.

‘You’re cheating,’ he huffed as Remus spelt the word squib on a triple word score. Hermione had tried to get them to play like muggles, but it hadn’t worked. For instance, there were very few muggle words containing the letter ‘q’.

‘You say that every time you think you’re going to lose,’ Hermione pointed out as she flicked her wand at the parchment to add the new points. She looked gorgeous, in her jeans and red sleeveless top, the light of the flames dancing across her exposed collarbones and neck. She had previously been wearing a knitted jumper but had long since discarded it due to the heat of the fire. It was driving him crazy, Remus reflected as he saw him watching her and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

‘That’s it, I give up!’ Sirius announced dramatically, ‘Harry and I are going home.’

‘Don’t be a sore loser,’ Remus teased as his friend rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. We wouldn’t have had this problem if she’d let me play poker.’

Hermione scowled playfully. ‘You’re a bad influence on your godson, Mr Black. You only wanted to play poker for one reason.’

‘Because I always win?’

Remus jokingly escorted Sirius and a now awake Harry from the premises. He knew that he had nothing to worry about with the flirting between Sirius and Hermione; Sirius simply didn’t know any other way to communicate with a woman. When he thought about it, Remus remembered his being exactly the same way with Lily when she and James had been alive. He smiled at the memories as he went to rejoin Hermione in the living room.

‘He really is a sore loser,’ she commented as she cleared the board. ‘Maybe he’ll get better with age.’

Remus wanted to make a sarcastic comment but all thoughts save one flew from his head as Hermione bent over to pick up the board. I’m glad she didn’t do that in front of Sirius.

Hermione must have noticed the strangled moan he emitted as she looked at him curiously. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Fine,’ he muttered, ‘but if you keep bending over like that I’m not going to be responsible for the course of my actions.’ They both blushed at his pronouncement but Remus knew it was true. It was only a few days from the full moon and he tended to be a bit more... restless around this time.

‘Sorry,’ Hermione whispered, pulling her top closer to her chest with one hand.

Remus shrugged, ‘Don’t be sorry, I just... we need to talk about this, ‘Mione.’

And they did, they had both been avoiding the issue while steadily creeping towards a more physically intimate relationship. Nothing more had happened in a sense of what they did, but the speed at which they progressed before one or other of them would pull away was increasing every day and Remus knew that they both had reasons for wanting to stop.

‘I know,’ she sighed, taking a seat on the floor by his side. They both sat staring into the fire. Remus had just about gathered the nerves to speak when Hermione beat him to it. ‘My parents are religious,’ she started, ‘we went to church every Sunday as long as I remember. After I found out I was a witch I stopped believing in most of it but,’ she paused, chewing her lip, ‘some of its stayed with me. It just seemed like a good way to live, you know? Things like the need to love others and treat them equally, the idea about using your gifts and abilities for a higher cause and,’ she looked up at him from under her eyelashes, ‘the idea of keeping your body for your partner in marriage.’

All of the insecurities he had felt every time Hermione had pulled back were eradicated immediately. He often forgot that she had grown up as a muggle and so it only made sense that she would hold onto some of their beliefs. He knew that a similar idea existed in Pureblood society, although he doubted that muggle religion advocated the inherent right to practice adultery after marriage as long as it was done discreetly. ‘That... makes sense.’ He said slowly.

‘You’re not scared?’ She asked, sounding surprised. ‘Most men would be running for the hills when their girlfriend tells them she wants to marry them eventually.’

‘Most women would have run from me long ago,’ Remus pointed out, kissing the top of her head with a smile. ‘And I can’t think of anything I want more than to send the rest of my life with you.’ As he said the words he realised that they were true. Remus wanted her in his life for good, he wanted to be her husband and have Hermione as his wife. He wanted to anyone they might meet in the wizarding and the muggle world to know that they loved each other by the timeless symbol of two golden bands. ‘Hermione? Stand up.’

She stood, looking confused until she realised that Remus wasn’t going to get up further than one knee. ‘I don’t want “eventually”. We’ve both lived through a war we didn’t think we would survive and now I want to make the most of the time I have remaining on this earth. Every second of it.’ He said and she smiled weakly. ‘I love you, Hermione. I will always love you. Marry me.’


	23. Someone Help Us ‘Cause We’re Doing Our Best

The longer she stayed silent the more hurt was evident on his face. Hermione knew that she must be giving Remus completely mixed signals and she instantly felt the guilt flood her system.

‘I understand what you’re saying,’ she said in a rush of air, ‘and I love you for it, but we haven’t even been on a date yet, Remus. After all we’ve come through don’t you think we deserve a bit of... of normality for a while?’ His expression now was absolutely unfathomable. ‘I’m not saying “no”,’ she clarified, ‘I’m just saying, “not today”.’

‘Then when?’ Remus asked, his voice cautious.

Hermione eyed him carefully, watching for his reactions. ‘When we’re both settled and have jobs, when we’ve been in a committed relationship for some time. I don’t know, just when it feels right.’

‘It feels right now,’ Remus muttered quietly.

Hermione said nothing. Despite the worries that she had over the newness of their relationship Hermione had to admit to herself that she could easily imagine a future with Remus. Everything he held against himself she had already accepted. She loved him and had no doubts that he loved her but there were still several other things that ate away at her mind.

The first was their age. While twenty was a young age to be married in the muggle world Hermione knew that Harry’s parents had married very young, almost straight out of Hogwarts. In fact that seemed to be the trend in the magical world, she reflected, all of her friend’s parents had been younger than here by a few years. So maybe her issue with her age wasn’t quite as big a problem as she thought.

Then there was the financial aspect of marriage. Neither she nor Remus had jobs and she wanted to be a bit more financially stable before making such an important commitment. It may have been an issue of her own pride but Hermione wanted to make sure that she actually had something to share with Remus once everything they owned belonged to the other too.

But the most important factor niggling at her was the issue of Nymphadora Tonks. In her old world Hermione had known Remus happily married and with a young child. What would happen once they reached 1995 and Remus met the adult Tonks? Would he fall in love with her? Hermione didn’t think she could take that kind of heartbreak.

Up until now she had been able to push Tonks to the back of her mind but now Remus was offering Hermione a very permanent place in his life. How would she handle it if, in about thirteen years, Remus fell for her? Hermione had always wanted marriage and children but not if she knew that there was to be a sell-by date on the relationship. Could she really be happy in that time knowing what was coming?

She needed time to think about all of these things. ‘I don’t know, Remus. I just don’t know.’

He closed his eyes as she turned to look at him. The guilt was still present but Hermione justified her actions, no matter how much she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this man.

That night they fell asleep beside each other, silent but not touching.

/-/

The next morning came as a bit of a shock as Hermione came down into the kitchen to find Remus surrounded by mail. The living room window was wide open and owl after owl dropped letters on top of the already huge pile spilling over the sides of the coffee table.

‘Apparently word got out that I had applied for the job at Hogwarts,’ he said, his voice betraying no emotion. Hermione felt her stomach sink. ‘Funny how fickle people can be isn’t it. I mean, all these years and only now are people beginning to offer encouragement...’

‘Hang on,’ she said, shocked, ‘they’re not hate mail?’

‘No,’ Remus said with a slight smile, ‘but they needn’t have bothered.’ He held up a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. ‘Dumbledore offered me the job.’

Hermione smiled and made to approach him but stopped. She didn’t know how well she would be received after last night. After all, any time she had fought with Ron in her past it had taken them days to even speak to one another civilly again.

To her immense relief, however, Remus reached out and grabbed her hand, gently pulling her down beside him. ‘I don’t want to go back to this, Hermione. The not communicating how we feel. I don’t really understand why you feel how you do but I’m trying to respect your wishes. Can we just go back to being us, please?’

She smiled and nodded, seeing no hint of anger in his eyes. ‘I’m happy for you,’ she whispered, kissing his cheek lightly.

‘I’m due to start after the Christmas break.’ He explained. ‘Dumbledore said it would be better if I didn’t live in the castle. It might put some of the parents a bit more at ease with the idea of a werewolf teaching their children.’

‘I think that sounds like a good plan,’ Hermione said shyly, unwilling to admit that if he did receive and offer to live at the castle she didn’t know exactly how she would feel about that. She knew that she would miss him.

Remus didn’t return her smile. ‘I have to go and meet with Dumbledore today but I’ll be back here at six. Is that alright?’

Hermione nodded, ‘Of course, I’ll see you tonight then.’

Remus nodded, summoning his shoes from the hallway. ‘Alright.’

She knew they were avoiding the issue and, as Remus left for the day, she felt the distance between them more than ever before. Was it possible that she had managed to ruin this relationship before it had even started?

/-/

For Hermione the morning passed incredibly slowly. She filled out a few more job applications and apparated into Hogsmead to send them. She picked up a bit of shopping with the money Remus had left her to do so.

After all that it was still only eleven o’clock and so Hermione had taken a quick nap before she headed over to see Sirius and Harry. Now, sitting on the sofa in the house Sirius had bought for himself and his godson she wished that she had just stayed awake. The dream she had had when she was recovering in the hospital wing had started to become a recurring feature of her sleep. She had woken unsettled and agitated.

‘Are you sure you’re alright, Hermione?’ Sirius asked her for the third time as she stared off into space, completely ignoring his tales of auror training. She knew that Sirius was tired too, as evidenced by the fact that he was on his third cup of coffee in the last half-hour. He was juggling training and a toddler, Hermione really had no right to let a few dreams get her down. Her response obviously wasn’t coming quick enough for Sirius and her thoughts were quickly redirected. ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with Remus asking you to marry him, would it?’

She felt her jaw drop open. ‘How do you know about that?’

‘He was here this morning,’ Sirius shrugged, ‘he can’t work out why you said you wanted to get married and then refused him.’

Hermione felt slightly angry at the fact that Remus had told Sirius what had happened but she supposed that she should have expected it. ‘I love him,’ she told the other wizard, ‘but there’s more to consider than just that.’

‘Like my cousin?’ He asked, one eyebrow raised. Hermione felt her mouth drop open. ‘I seem to remember you telling me that in your past Remus was married to Nymphadora.’ He chuckled at the look of pure shock on her face. ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him who it was but I may have mentioned that you may be struggling with reconciling your relationship with a man you knew as happily married.’

Hermione had always known that Sirius was intelligent, but she had never really been on the receiving end of his skill for analysing people before. She remembered Molly Weasley commenting on his particular aptitude for studying his colleagues but had never seen it in practice. Funny, she had always got the impression that Remus was the more empathetic of the two school friends.

‘It’s not something I can just forget, Sirius,’ she confessed, ducking her head shyly.

‘I know,’ the other wizard agreed, ‘but you have to ask yourself if, after all you’ve changed for everyone else, there isn’t one more thing you could change to make his life a little bit easier. From what I understand Remus was miserable for years before he met Tonks. I can guarantee that if he was with you that would never happen. He would be happy with you and never give her so much as a second lance.’

‘You can’t know that,’ Hermione disagreed.

‘Yes, I can!’ Sirius said, banging his hand on the coffee table. ‘I know that him being a werewolf isn’t important to you, Hermione, but you seem to disregarding it completely. As long as he has you Remus won’t look at anyone else. He’s not programmed that way.’

Hermione gaped at Sirius, suddenly understanding. Remus had tried to tell her as well but she had brushed it off as empty sentiments... for me there will never be another woman on this earth that will ever hold my attention. I will always belong to you... oh no...

Sirius must have noticed the look of shock on her face as she realised. He chuckled quietly, ‘Now stop being jealous of a child and go and find Remus.’

/-/

Talking to Sirius had definitely given Remus a little more perspective on Hermione’s reaction. He knew that she had known him married with a child but she rarely mentioned it and he thought that he had made it clear how he felt about her.

It had taken Sirius and his words of wisdom to shake him out of his gloom. ‘She’s a woman, who knows why she did it?’

Except that Remus knew that neither of them believed that. He understood exactly why Hermione had reacted the way she did. It was he who had dealt with the situation poorly. He should have talked to her, just because she had saved the world didn’t mean that she didn’t suffer the same insecurities that anyone did in those early stages of what was obviously a very serious relationship.

‘What am I supposed to do?’ he had asked Sirius.

And that was how he ended up greeting her that evening dressed in the new dress trousers and shirt that Sirius had bought for him (insisting that he would need it), with a white rose made of silk in one hand.

‘Remus?’ she asked, a frown line appearing between her eyebrows as she looked at him. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was wondering if you would like to join me for dinner,’ he said handing her the rose. He watched the blush rise in her cheeks as she avoided his eyes. ‘I didn’t want to get flowers that would die,’ he explained as she studied the rose, ‘because you’ll always be beautiful to me.’

He knew exactly how cheesy he sounded but Hermione didn’t seem to notice. ‘Thank you.’ She glanced down at her appearance, ‘I don’t have anything to wear.’

Remus smiled softly at that statement from her. It was so... girly, so different from the two personas that she usually embodied: the practical and the passionate. ‘I thought of that,’ he confessed, passing her the garment bag that he had hung on the back of the door, ‘so I bought you one of those new fangled dresses that Malkin’s was selling that lets you design your own dress. The woman said it only took a few minutes to do and the instructions are in the bag. I hope that’s alright, I didn’t mean to overstep.’

Hermione tucked one of her curls behind her ear with another shy smile. ‘Thank you. I’ll just... be back in a few minutes then.’

Remus smiled as she looked back at him from the door, feeling for the first time since last night that they might yet be alright.

/-/

After listening to his housemates complain about how long girls took to get ready to get out Remus had to admit that he had struck gold with Hermione. Only ten minutes after she had left the room she as back and ready to go. The shapeless piece of fabric he had bought this morning with some of the money Sirius had given him for rent had been transformed into a knee length purple wrap dress thing. Remus had to admit that he didn’t know the technical term for it but Hermione looked amazing. When he told her so she just blushed and asked where they were going for dinner.

Remus smiled, offering her his arm as they apparated to the middle of muggle London. ‘My mum was muggle-born,’ he explained as he led Hermione to the small restaurant just off the busy streets. ‘She loved this place, it was where my parents had their first date.’

The restaurant hadn’t change much since the last time Remus had been there. The decor was still the same and there were some familiar faces among the staff, though he doubted that any of them remembered him. He had wanted to take Hermione somewhere that was special to him, to let her into his past just a little bit more, share something that she didn’t already know without him telling her.

‘This is lovely, Remus,’ he told him as he pulled her chair out for her. He knew how to be a gentleman, something lost on James and Sirius in school. Well, at least until James started dating Lily, then he had wanted to impress her with his good manners. Remus had his mother to thank for that.

‘You said you wanted normality,’ he explained gently, smiling softly at her, ‘I wanted to show you that I can do normal. Most of the month anyway,’ he added with what he knew was a wan smile.

‘Don’t do that,’ Hermione frowned. Her small hand squeezed his where it lay on top of the table. ‘Don’t put yourself down like that. It’s...’ she sighed, her eyes flicking away from his momentarily, ‘I know you’re not perfect, Remus, no one is. But I think that you might just be perfect for me.’

He loved that blush, Remus thought as he smiled at her. ‘I’m glad to hear it, but I need you to believe that you’re perfect for me too.’ He stroked the back of her hand where it rested on the white linen. ‘What do you need to convince you?’

She thought about it for a minute and Remus watched the lines of concentration on her forehead. Eventually the answer he waited for came out in a small whisper as she played with the stem of her wine glass. ‘Time.’

Remus smirked a little at the irony. ‘We have time.’

/-/

The rest of the meal passed with little incident. Remus had promised normality and that was what he aimed to deliver. For once there was no talk of war, of horcruxes or of time travel. That had been one of the reasons for picking a muggle restaurant, aside from the fact that it was slighter cheaper and Remus had blown most of his admittedly very limited budget on the clothes necessary for tonight. In muggle London there would be no temptation to go off on a tangent about anything magical. There was just the two of them, on a date, acting normal.

Apart from the yawns that Hermione was fighting off.

‘Are you tired?’ Remus asked her as he led her out into the street. He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked to apparition point, both shivering slightly from the cold winter air.

‘A little,’ she admitted, blushing again. ‘I’m sorry, Remus, it’s not you, honestly. I nearly nodded off on Sirius earlier as well. Actually, speaking of... Sirius said that you went to see him this morning.’

She didn’t sound angry but Remus still felt the need to proceed with caution. ‘Yes, I wanted to ask his advice.’

‘Oh.’

Is that it? “Oh”? ‘He told me that I should have been more considerate of your feelings about, you know, us.’

Hermione smiled slightly. ‘Funny, he told me exactly the same thing. I’m sorry, Remus, for hurting you.’

She still didn’t give any indication that she was actually sorry for turning down his proposal but she had asked for time and Remus was willing to grant her that. He returned her smile. ‘Am I forgiven then?’

Hermione turned her head up to his and kissed his cheek softly. The heat from such an innocent point of contact spread through his entire body. ‘There wasn’t anything to forgive.’ Hermione stifled another yawn with her hand. ‘Damn dreams,’ she muttered as she ducked out from under his arm in order to try and shrug on her jacket, ‘they’ve been keeping me up and I don’t even know what they’re about.’

‘Sirius has been having the same problem with Harry, apparently. He was telling me this morning that Harry wakes up in the middle of the night screaming and he has no idea why because he does need feed or changed or...’

Remus looked to Hermione and realised that she was no longer walking in step with him. Instead she was a few feet back, her hands frozen on the belt of her jacket and a look of pure horror on her face.

He knew that look, the one of fear, of panic. It was the look Hermione had shown when confronted with the basilisk. ‘Hermione?’ he asked, grasping her forearms lightly as she continued to stare past him, into space. ‘Please, sweetheart, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?’

‘Harry,’ she choked out, her golden eyes suddenly finding his, ‘the last horcrux, it wasn’t the snake. It’s Harry.’


	24. The Second Hand Unwinds

Her mind was whirring, all of the elements falling into place.

_The green-eyes fawn in her dreams..._

_The dead snake lying in the Gaunt cottage..._

_The phoenix tears that sealed its marks..._

_The scar Harry always had on his right arm..._

The man looking back at her with confusion and worry etched on every line of his face...

Hermione took a deep breath, unwilling to admit the truth that she had just pieced together. ‘Harry, the last horcrux, it wasn’t the snake. It’s Harry.’ Remus said nothing, he stared at her as though he was trying to see insider her mind. ‘We need to go home,’ she muttered, grabbing his warm hand in hers and concentrating on the front door of the home she now called hers.

As soon as they arrived Remus seemed to snap out of his trance. He wrenched the door open and began methodically reerecting all of the privacy charms they had taken down. Because she had thought they were safe, she had thought it was over.

Hermione watched as he fell heavily onto the sofa where they had last had one of these conversations. ‘Explain, please,’ he begged, the desperation for her to be wrong evident.

‘I never realised, I didn’t remember...’ Hermione cried hysterically. She met his desperate but still patient amber eyes and felt his hands run up and down her arms in a comforting gesture. She needed to hold it together, there was too much at stake now.

‘Breathe, sweetheart,’ he murmured, his hands still warming her arms. ‘Tell me what you know.’

‘Nagini, the snake, it wasn’t a horcrux,’ she started, trying to focus on the breaths she was inhaling and exhaling rather than the words that were coming automatically now. ‘The only way Voldemort would have survived something as powerful as his own magic rebounding on him was if he had split his soul into seven parts.’

Remus nodded encouragingly, apparently following. She knew he had studied Arithmacy and so there was no need to explain the significance of the number to him. Seven was the perfect number, the most magical number. Voldemort had always wanted his soul in seven pieces, she knew, that was why he had later created another horcrux, overlooking the fact that he had survived because of the fact that it was already so.

‘I always took it for granted that the snake was one of those horcruxes, but it wasn’t. Voldemort only made her a horcrux when I was fourteen, when he killed Bertha Jorkins. So there must have been another horcrux, one that he didn’t know he had made, something that a portion of his soul had latched onto because it was the only viable option at that time.’

‘Harry,’ Remus breathed in a pained voice.

‘We should have realised before,’ she said sadly, ‘Harry could do things that he shouldn’t be able to. He could see inside Voldemort’s mind, he could speak Parseltongue, his scar burned when Voldemort was close. We should have known that they were after-effects from being a horcrux.’

‘After-effects?’ Remus asked, his voice tense and strained, ‘he wasn’t a horcrux when he... when you left?’

She didn’t dwell on his choice of words, she knew he meant no harm by them. ‘No, he wouldn’t have been. Do you remember me telling you about the Chamber of Secrets?’

‘Of course,’ he breathed, his eyes widening, ‘the basilisk, the venom didn’t kill Harry but it did kill the horcurx inside him. Then why did he continue to have those effects?’

Hermione ran a hand through her hair unconsciously. ‘I’m not entirely sure. It might have been that because the abilities had developed with Harry’s magic (and the fact that his magic was so strong) that after the horcrux died the abilities stayed. Or it might be that the tears Fawkes gave him worked quick enough to save the magic that had been developing for twelve years. I really don’t know.’

Hermione felt the tears welling up in her eyes as Remus continued to stare at her. ‘I should have realised,’ she whispered as his hand came up to cup her cheek gently, ‘I shouldn’t have thought I could save the world, Remus. What do we do now?’

That was what was hurting her the most. She had meddled, despite Dumbledore’s warning to her that terrible things happen to people who meddle with time. She had thought that she ould make everything better when in reality all she had done was keep the piece of evil inside Harry alive. Now he would never face the basilisk and Voldemort would still rise again. She had thought that she had all the answers.

And Remus... Remsu had trusted her with his home, his future, his life. Even his heart. He had truly believed her when she said she could save all those people but now she wasn’t so sure. Se didn’t know anything anymore.

She closed her eyes as he leant in and kissed her gently on the forehead, allowing his chin to come to rest against the top of her hair.

‘We do what we’ve done before,’ he murmured quietly, ‘we talk it over and we plan what to do next. But first we have to make it into the kitchen. That is where we do all our planning, after all.’ Hermione offered him a weak smile as he pulled her off the sofa. ‘We carry on,’ he told her quietly, ‘because you’re the only one who can do this, Hermione. We carry on because we have to.’

/-/

When Remus had first suggested his possible course of action Hermione had been appalled. However, as the hours passed, as the sun set and rose again and as they made their way through four cups of coffee each, Hermione was beginning to think that he was right. They didn’t have another choice.

She had cried the last of her tears over the decision by the time they finally left the house. Remus held her hand as they travelled and she was grateful. He held the garden gate open in front of her and they walked up the rickety path together. He knocked the door, too, knowing that she might not have the strength to do it.

The eternally harassed-looking woman answered the door. She looked so much younger her, too, her tiny baby girl asleep in her arms as she waved off two of her sons who were trying to get a glimpse of the visitors.

Molly Weasley listened as Remus explained. There had been a mix-up and Sirius would be working late. He had owled them to come and collect Harry. Hermione took the toddler out of his play pen and held him close to her. Their explanation was enough for Mrs Weasley as she waved them off.

She might have though different had she seen the silver blade Remus hid in his cloak.

/-/

Truth be told Remus wasn’t entirely happy with their plan either but there was nothing else that could be done. As they walked slowly and silently up the drive to the castle Remus tried to imagine what he would do if James were here. Would he accept the choice they had made?

Remus winced, knowing the answer before he even asked the question. James had died for Harry.

He glanced over at Hermione, holding her former best friend in her arms as if he was the most precious thing in the world. But corrupted with evil, they knew that now.

The choices she had made thus far had been the hardest anyone should ever have to face. That was why he had come up with this plan. They both knew it was the only option but Remus was not prepared to let her take the pain of what they were about to do.

/-/

An hour later it was done. Remus caught Hermione in his arms as her knees gave out from under her, the knife clattering to the ground as he did so.

Her sobs were uncontrollable as she sobbed into his chest, unable to do anything else as he wrapped his arms round her and pulled her onto his lap on the floor.

‘It’s over,’ he whispered, tears forming in his own eyes as he pulled her close, ‘it’s done.’

/-/

That was how Sirius found them several hours later. Hermione was still sniffing into his tear-stained shirt when the door banged open and Remus saw an enraged Sirius Black stride through the door.

‘Where the hell is my godson?’

‘Sirius,’ Remus started.

‘I go to pick him up at Molly’s and she tells me that you two got him hours ago. Then I go to your house and can’t even get through the bloody gate! I’ve spent hours trying to find you, Moony, so where is he?’

‘Sirius, I need to tell you...’

‘WHERE IS HE?’

Remus couldn’t blame him for being angry, he really couldn’t.

‘He’s here, Mr Black,’ Dumbledore said, sweeping towards them from the back of his office. ‘He was sleeping but alas the sound of your arrival woke him.’

Sirius looked between Remus and Hermione sitting together on the cold stone floor and the headmaster holding a sleeping Harry in his arms. Remus knew what he was thinking but the next sentence out of his mouth confirmed it.

‘So where’s the fire?’

Remus held his breath as he helped a still shaky Hermione to her feet. Neither of them had slept in almost two days now and both were drained from what they had just done.

‘We need to explain something, Sirius,’ she said in a quiet voice. Remus squeezed her hand reassuringly.

‘This isn’t going to be easy to hear. Perhaps you had better sit down.’ Remus suggested, ignoring his friend’s scowl when he refused.

‘Remus and I realised something when we were talking last night,’ she sighed and Remus was pleased to see that she met the gaze Sirius was giving her straight on. ‘We acted on it as soon as possible and in the only way possible and we won’t apologise for that.’

‘Why does it sound like I’m not going to like this?’ The darker haired man asked, still scowling at being left out of the loop.

‘Harry was a horcrux,’ Remus said, taking the lead from Hermione for the moment. ‘There was something that we overlooked in our hunt for them and Hermione realised that Harry contained a piece of Voldemort’s soul.’

‘We did what we had to, Sirius,’ Hermione whispered. Remus her hands fisted a little tighter in his shirt. ‘We had to destroy the horcrux.’

‘You stabbed my godson?’His voice was low and dangerous. Remus knew from experience that Sirius was only seconds away from an outburst. ‘You STABBED my godson?’ He was really shouting now, advancing on the two of them with fire in his eyes.

Remus moved Hermione behind her. ‘Back off Sirius,’ he warned, narrowing his eyes at the other man. ‘Hermione’s right, it had to be done.’

Dumbledore had remained quiet until then but when he spoke Sirius seemed to listen. ‘Sirius, it was the only way. Now Harry has the chance to grow up and live a normal, happy life.’

‘A normal life?’ he barked suddenly, is eyes flashing between them all, ‘His parents are dead, his life will never be normal.’

Remus heard Hermione whimper slightly against his side. ‘He has us,’ she said quietly. ‘We’re sorry that we didn’t have time to wait for you to do this Sirius. We would never do anything to put Harry’s life in danger.’

Remus remembered how she had looked when he had cut Harry’s skin. He hadn’t wanted her to do it. Hermione’s entire frame was shaking even as Fawkes cried his tears over the little boy. She had been a complete wreck and even though they both knew it would work neither had been as relieved as when Harry had looked up at them and smiled again.

It seemed that Hermione’s emotional state was what was finally getting through to Sirius, Remus reflected. He watched as all of the anger drained out of his posture and his shoulders slumped forward. ‘I was scared,’ he admitted, ‘when I went to pick Harry up and he was missing. I didn’t know...’ he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t want to lose anyone else.’

Since he had come back from Azkaban Sirius had been so well put together. It only made sense that he would have such a major reaction to this, Remus thought. It was completely understandable.

‘He has a small scar on the bottom of his left foot.’ Hermione’s voice was still small and timid. ‘We didn’t want to put it anywhere noticeable.’

‘We really are sorry,’ Remus said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

‘I don’t like what you did,’ Sirius said slowly, ‘but I understand.’

Remus watched as Sirius took Harry from Dumbledore, taking in the sight of him. He knew that it would have killed Sirius to lose Harry after everything that had already happened. Harry just smiled and stretched his arms out to Hermione when he opened his eyes and caught sight of them. ‘My-nee.’

Sirius smiled a tight smile as he handed the toddler over, apparently trusting her with the child. ‘It’s definitely over now, yeah?’

Remus heard Hermione chuckle weakly as he held Harry close to her. ‘Yes, it’s over.’

/-/

A few hours previously, a village in Albania had been shocked by a sudden scream. When they had gone to investigate they had found the mangled body of a man, naked and lying in the dirt. They pronounced him possessed by a demon and buried him far outside the village outskirts.


	25. Took For Granted Everything We Had

After the shock of the last number of hours Hermione had fallen into bed fully clothed with Remus right alongside her. It was lunch time the next day before she woke up, only to discover that Remus was no longer beside her.

Hermione rubbed her eyes and padded downstairs quietly, not bothering to change or even glance in the mirror. After everything that had happened she just really needed to see Remus, to feel close to him.

She found him sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by books and different scraps of paper. He was muttering quietly to himself and scrawling on a piece of parchment that looked like it had more words crossed out than not on it.

‘Remus?’ she asked sleepily.

He turned to look at her with a sheepish expression on his face. ‘I thought you could use a lie in today.’

‘S’all right,’ she said, taking a seat next to him on the floor. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Lesson plans,’ he answered, pulling a hand through his hair in the way that he when the stress was beginning to show. ‘I have to have at least the first month’s done before I start in two weeks.’

Hermione glanced over the piles of paper again, this time noticing the small mountain of mail that lay (mostly unopened) on his other side.

‘Apparently word got out that I had applied for the job at Hogwarts,’ he said, his voice betraying no emotion. Hermione felt her stomach sink. ‘Funny how fickle people can be isn’t it. I mean, all these years and only now are people beginning to offer encouragement...’

‘Hang on,’ she said, shocked, ‘they’re not hate mail?’

‘No,’ Remus said with a wide smile, ‘at least, of all the letters that I’ve read so far.’

‘That’s great, Remus,’ she said, pressing her lips to his cheek.

‘I almost forgot, you got a letter too.’ He handed her an envelope and Hermione noticed it was open. ‘I was curious,’ Remus said unapologetically.

She opened the letter with shaking hands. It was from the Ministry about her application for the Department for the regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. ‘I got it,’ she whispered in wonder, ‘I start after Christmas, too.’

Remus kissed her cheek and mused, ‘Do you think Dumbledore had something to do with it?’

‘Probably,’ she said with a smile. ‘I really wouldn’t put anything past him.’ She sighed and read over the letter again before standing and making her way up the stairs, calling to Remus that she was going to shower and get dressed.

/-/

Since she had awoken Hermione hadn’t really had a chance to process all that had happened the previous day. It was only when she looked in the mirror in her bedroom that she noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the slight redness remaining in her eyes. The she remembered the cause.

She could have killed Harry. Despite her belief that their plan would work any number of things could have gone wrong and Harry could have died. Instead of making his future better for him it could have been erased completely.

But then... Now he could really live, she thought he could do all of the things that he never had the chance to do in her old world. He would know about his magic from an early age and he would never feel like there was something ‘wrong’ with him because of it. He would ahve the chance to make real friends and have people around him of his own age and talents.

Though he would never be the friend to Hermione that he had been before he would be raised by his godfather and would get to know his parents’ best friends. He would be able to live life to its fullest potential every day.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. The young woman looking back at her was a completely different person than the girl who had been hit by the Geminus Terra curse in 1997. Physically she looked very similar, the same hair and eyes, the same slim build and slightly narrow face. The same slightly asymmetric lips and pick cheeks. But inside was a different story.

Since she had found herself in this world Hermione had done things so out of character that, looking back now, it shocked her completely. But for everything she had risked, she had gained so much more in return. She had friends and a family here in 1982. She had Remus, and Sirius and Harry. And Harry would grow up surrounded by all of the love that he hadn’t had in her old world.

And so could Remus, she realised.

Sirius’s words started leaking into her head. As much as she tried to ignore them...

‘Hermione, are you alright in there?’

Hermione jumped though Remus’s voice betrayed the fact that he wasn’t even on the same floor as her. ‘I’m fine,’ she called back, ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

She looked at herself in the mirror one last time. No, this was not the same woman as she had been. This was her new life and now that she had done everything she could do to make the world a better place she could for Harry she needed to turn her attentions to doing the same for someone else. Professionally, she was already on that path but she couldn’t help but feel that she had taken a step back along that way personally.

Though it would have been a mistake at the time, Hermione found herself wanting to undo one of her past actions. Or, at least, make up for it now it was in her past. This was her life now and she needed to start living in this world, really living, rather than every one of her actions being dictated by the shadows of a different reality.

It was time that she made a decision for herself, because she wanted to. Even though it was soon (and slightly mad) she wanted to do this. She wanted the future that she had been offered and had turned down out of fear.

And she knew now that it had been fear. Fear of what was to come now that she had no plan left for this world and fear of some elements of her past replaying themselves in this future. But she understood now that that was no longer a possibility. Too much had changed in this time for things to simply continue down that road.

Remus was still sitting surrounded by papers when she rejoined him in the living room. She gently took the plan he was constructing out of his hands and sat in front of him, her eyes staring straight into his.

‘Ask me again.’

/-/

Remus looked at her, confused. ‘Hermione?’

There was something he had never seen before in her eyes. It was akin to the determination that she held when they were carrying out every aspect of her plan to rid the world of Voldemort but there was no sadness this time, nor any fear of what was to come.

Instead she held his gaze steadily and repeated the phrase. ‘Ask me again, Remus.’

‘I don’t understand,’ he admitted, ‘what do you want me to ask you?’

Her toffee coloured eyes stayed locked with his and (so close to the full moon) Remus could hear the steady beat of her heart. She leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss of his lips before drawing back, her forehead resting gently against his.

‘I don’t need time anymore, Remus,’ the breath from her whisper made him shiver. ‘I understand now. Please ask me again.’

Remus felt his eyes widen as he understood what Hermione was saying. And all of the doubts that he had had since she rejected him the first time crept into his mind. He pushed them aside, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again to find hers.

‘Why now?’ He asked.

Hermione chuckled slightly, ‘That wasn’t the question I meant.’

Remus tried to smile back but the look on her face told him that he hadn’t succeeded. ‘I just...’ he stumbled to find the right words to express what he was feeling. ‘I don’t understand how you could have changed your mind.’

He watched as Hermione leaned back slightly and held his gaze. ‘I realised that I have to start living in this world. This is my home now, you are my home, Remus.’ Her face was completely open and honest as she smiled at him. He had never seen her so at peace save for in her sleep. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want a home and a family with you. I want to raise our children and grow old with you. And I know you wanted that to, I just have to hope that you still do after all that’s happened.’

‘Of course I want it,’ he rushed to say, ‘but I just don’t know if... You might regret this, Hermione. I would hate for that to happen.’

‘No, I won’t,’ she said, still holding his hands in hers, ‘I would have if I had said yes before, because I wasn’t completely sure that this was what I wanted. I’m sure now, Remus.’

He wanted to argue but all that Remus could think of was what she had said. Hermione was offering him everything he thought he would never be able to have. The woman he had fallen in love with was offering him everything he could ever want from her. So why was he so hesitant? After all, he had asked her before. It was pain of rejection, he knew, that was holding him back now.

She was waiting, waiting for him to ask her. She wouldn’t say no this time. But how was Remus to know if this was what she really wanted? It wasn’t like Hermione to change her mind about anything she set it to and that made him wary. If she really wanted this, then why now?

Was she scared of dying or of something happening to her? That had been the cause of a lot of marriages between people his age, Remus knew. Many of them now resented each other and he couldn’t bear that if it were to happen to him and Hermione.

And what about his wife in her past, he wondered. How had Hermione managed to reconcile that particular fear?

But ultimately, he decided, it was down to Hermione. She seemed happy, when she made her request of him and Remus knew that he would do anything to make her happy.

‘Hermione,’ he started slowly, squeezing her hand in reassurance, ‘will you marry me?’

‘Yes.’

It was as if Remus hadn’t really believed that she would say yes until the word was out of her mouth. ‘Really?’

Hermione laughed and flung her arms around his neck, almost toppling them both over on top of the piles of paper. ‘Yes. I love you, Remus.’

‘As I love you,’ he managed to get out before she assaulted his lips. ‘Hang on,’ he muttered, releasing his gold on Hermione as he grabbed his wand from the floor. ‘Accio.’

A small velvet box flew into his hand from the top of one of the bookshelves. Remus opened it and slid the ring onto Hermione’s finger. The white-gold band and single diamond where familiar to him but she took her time in studying the way it looked on her hand before turning her face back to his.

‘It’s beautiful, Remus. Was it..?’

‘My mother’s,’ he confirmed, ‘it was left to me when she died. I never thought I would have the chance to see anyone wear it but...’

He didn’t get another word out as their lips reconnected.

/-/

It was quite a while before either Remus or Hermione had felt the urge to move from their spot on the living room floor. Eventually Hermione conceded that Remus did, in fact, have to get some work done for his new job, especially now as they planned on going to visit Sirius and Harry that evening to tell them the good news.

‘I love you,’ Hermione breathed against his lips as she went to get up.

‘I love you more.’

Hermione slapped him lightly on the shoulder and muttered ‘liar’ under her breath.

‘Look on the bright side,’ Remus told her, ‘The sooner I get this finished, the sooner I can go and show off my gorgeous fiancée.’

Hermione laughed as he lifted her left hand to his mouth and kissed her ring finger. ‘I like the sound of that.’

‘You’re not regretting it then?’ He asked, unable to keep the nerves out of his voice.

Hermione smiled. ‘Are you looking for a way out?’ Remus shook his head vigorously, and she laughed. ‘Then shut up and get our living room back to an inhabitable state.’

And just like that he knew that this was what Hermione wanted. The tension that had settled between them of late was lifted completely at her teasing remarks and he knew that if she ever changed her mind Hermione would tell him.

All that was left to do now was decide when to have the wedding.


	26. It Was Worth All the While

The weeks after Remus and Hermione had got engaged had flown by.

The first thing they had done was to tell Sirius (and Harry). Sirius had arrived with the toddler in-tow for lunch before the men left for the Shrieking Shack. Hermione had nearly cried when Sirius had asked her if she could mind Harry for the night. It meant the world to her that he trusted her, even after all that had happened.

As Hermione was ladling out the tomato soup Sirius had told them about Rita Skeeter’s endeavours to corner him into an interview on his wrongful imprisonment and Ministry policy.

_‘She was always harping on about “Ministry deficiencies” when we were at school,’ Sirius had said through a mouthful of toast, ‘You should invite her to the wedding.’_

_Remus choked and Hermione smirked as she rubbed his back gently, Sirius’s eyes following the ring on her left hand. ‘I didn’t think you’d notice,’ he said sheepishly._

_Hermione had laughed as Sirius had protested, ‘I’m not that unobservant!’_

Hermione had bid them both goodbye shortly after and begged them both to be careful. Knowing that what sleep she got tonight would be far from restful, she settled down to an evening of playing with Harry. He was walking and talking and everything but Hermione felt anger shoot through her at finding out that one of the few words he knew was ‘sowwy’. It had been the first time that she had spent time with him away from the boys and he surprised her by asking where ‘Moony’ and ‘Pafoo’ had gone when she was putting him down to sleep for the night.

_‘They’re not here tonight, buddy, it’s just you and Hermione.’_

_‘Me and My-nee.’ He repeated as his eyes closed._

Life had been good, Hermione smiled to herself. Christmas had been spent between their house, the Burrow and Sirius’s place. She and Remus had started their jobs and both were enjoying it. The only downside was that, after months of nothing but each other’s company, Hermione found that she missed Remus terribly.

He was always home at six o’clock every night, only an hour later than Hermione but she begrudged that hour of boredom in between the time she left work and the time he came crashing through the fireplace. And it was often clear to Hermione how much he had missed her, too.

There had been one night, about two weeks ago now and after a particularly stressful day at work, that Hermione knew that she had all but attacked him as soon as he came through the grate. Remus had barely even had time to say hello before she had pulled his face down to hers and was slipping her hands under his shirt to feel his skin.

_‘’Mione?’_

_‘Shh,’ she whispered against his lips, ‘I missed you.’_

_It hadn’t taken any time at all before Hermione felt his arms lift her up and press her against one of the bookcases that had been only a foot behind her. It had been a long time since Remus was so bold with her and she knew that the full moon was only a few days away but none of that mattered as she tore at the buttons of his shirt, revealing more of his skin to her._

_His tongue plundered her mouth and Hermione moaned as his hands brought her hips flush with his, her back hitting the books with a muffled thud. She could feel how much he wanted her and it made her bold as she moved her lips from his to kiss a line down his neck, twisting her hands in his hair to keep her balance._

_The hands on her hips suddenly tightened as she moved her hips experimentally against his. A groan sounded from low in his throat and Hermione found the single most enticing sound she had ever heard. ‘’Mione, we have to stop,’ he panted as she ran her tongue over one of the thin scars on the top of his shoulder._

_Hermione had felt the sting of rejection immediately, loosening her grip on his hair and ceasing her assault on his long neck._

_‘It’s not that I don’t want to,’ he clarified ‘Merlin, I want you. But you said you wanted to wait until we were married.’_

_Hermione nodded with a slight blush as he set her back on her feet. She should have known that Remus would never reject her. ‘I know, I just... got carried away.’_

_‘I think we both did, sweetheart,’ he smiled, buttoning his shirt up again. ‘But maybe it’s time we talked about when you want to get married.’_

After that Remus had suggested the date and Hermione had agreed. They had already said that they wanted a small wedding with only Sirius, Harry, Dumbledore and the Weasley family in attendance.

Because there were no religious organisations in the wizarding world weddings worked differently from those in the muggle world. Remus had explained to Hermione that couples were married by someone well respected within the community; all they had to do was send for a form from the ministry and return it completed and signed the day they got married. So when Albus Dumbledore had offered to be their officiator they had readily accepted, he had even gone as far as to offer them the school for the ceremony.

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. She had never really thought about her wedding as a child. She had been far too wrapped up in stories about adventure and excitement. But now she had to admit that she looked forward to being the bride today. Molly had helped her to do her hair, which was swept up in an intricate fashion. She had also helped Hermione transfigure her dress out of the material Hermione bought in Hogsmead. The gown was simple, a white full length gown with no shoulders of straps, which pulled in at her waist and then gently fared out as it reached the floor. It was a little chilly around the shoulders but it was unseasonably warm for April this year.

The wedding had been put together in four months. Neither Hermione nor Remus had wanted anything to flash nor could they afford anything too expensive. In just under ten minutes Hermione would be walking into the Great Hall as an unmarried woman for the last time. They would have the ceremony in the Hall (where the men, the Weasley troop and Harry were waiting) followed by a light dinner. And that was it.

But that was all they needed.

Molly Weasley squeezed Hermione’s shoulder and let her know that it was time they left the Room of Requirement. She led Hermione down the corridors to the Great Hall, offering reassurance. Hermione had to draw the line when the other woman had started to give her wedding night advice. She had found a real friend in Molly but it was at that particular moment that she began to have flashbacks of Mrs Weasley in her old world, the mother of her friends. She simply told Molly that she was embarrassing her and the older woman had laughed it off.

And then they were outside the doors of the hall and Hermione was ready to face the man who would be her husband. Molly entered first and Hermione waited for a minute before she prepared to follow. She straightened her back and reached for the door handle before a large hand reached it first.

‘You didn’t think I’d let you walk down the aisle alone, did you?’ Sirius asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Hermione felt her first tears of the day start to well up. She had been a bit depressed when she realised that her father would never give her away at her wedding and here was Sirius holding out his hand to her. She had discussed with Sirius before about being Remus’s best man but the animagus had adamantly refused. He didn’t want to taint their wedding with the memories of being James and Lily’s best man before and had tried to alleviate the situation by pointing out that Hermione had no maid of honour, which would just leave him looking like ‘a complete muppet’.

‘Thank you, Sirius,’ she said, lacing her hand through his arm.

Sirius winked at her before opening the door. ‘Let’s get you to the altar before your husband-to-be wears a hole in the floor.’

Hermione had laughed a little shakily as they walked down the makeshift aisle. She didn’t have eyes for anyone but Remus.

She had always thought that he looked handsome but the sight of him in a tuxedo and dress robes was simply astonishing. Gone was every trace of the shy, insecure man who she had met and in his place was a man whose amber eyes smouldered as he smiled at her. He squeezed her hand as Sirius placed it in his and Hermione counted herself so incredibly blessed to have him in her life as Dumbledore cleared his throat.

‘Welcome...’

/-/

Remus had slept fitfully in Sirius and Harry’s spare room the night before his wedding unable to rest easy without Hermione beside him, and was an irritable mood with Sirius as he tried to offer him ‘wedding-night advice’ the next morning. Remus simply ignored him as he drank his coffee in an attempt to wake up.

But all of his tiredness had disappeared the moment he saw her.

The ceremony itself was somewhat of a blur and all Remus could concentrate on was the fact that the amazing creature who said ‘I do’ was now his wife. The plain white-gold bands that had once belonged to his parents proved it. His father’s ring now sat on his left hand and Remus wore it with pride as he watched his wife hug her ‘nephew’. His wife.

The dinner they shared with their guests seemed to Remus to last an age. If they had been having a bigger wedding a ball would have been expected but Remus was secretly glad to have Hermione all to himself as soon as possible.

However, it didn’t stop him being nervous. Their friends saw them off in the carriage that would bring them down to the gates of the school where Remus could apparate himself and his new wife home. He had watched Hermione waving to their little family until they were out of sight before she had turned her face to him.

She really was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyes shone with excitement and mischief as she titled her face to his and flicked her tongue against his bottom lip. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was starting to fall out of its style. Merlin, she was gorgeous.

Remus chuckled slightly as she fumbled with his cravat but the noise turned to a hiss as she ran her nails gently down the sides of his neck. He gripped her hips tightly in his hands as Hermione moved as close to him as the carriage bench would allow, her hands ghosting over his shirt and down to his belt. He groaned loudly as she brushed gently against his arousal, her sweeps becoming bolder as he pulled her tighter, leaving her lips and kissing a trail down her neck and over her collarbone. Hermione whimpered in his ear and pressed harder against him.

When he felt his back hit the wooden side of the carriage Remus realised exactly where they were. The thestrals were slowing down as they reached the gate and so he gently kissed Hermione’s forehead and lifted her hands in his.

‘I think it’s time we went home,’ he said, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.

Hermione nodded, smiling and Remus exited the carriage, sweeping her into his arms before he turned on the spot and disappeared.

/-/

Even as he carried her across the threshold of their bedroom he could feel his heart pounding. Hermione seemed to sense this, whispering ‘I love you’ as she kissed him sweetly. When she excused herself for a minute it gave him time to recollect his thoughts. This was Hermione, his wife. They loved each other and there was no need to feel so nervous, especially if their carriage ride had been anything to go by.

He heard the bedroom door creak open and his breath caught at the sight of her. She had removed her dress and shoes and stood before him clad in a white corset and garters. Remus groaned aloud and stroked her cheek gently, silently asking for permission to continue. The wedding band still felt new and strange on his hand, but it also felt right.

Hermione answered by moving her hands to undo the buttons of his robes and shirt, running her hands over his chest as she had done so many times before. Only this time she pressed a gentle kiss to his bite mark, showing her acceptance of him, of who he was. The sensation of her hands on his skin was sending an electric current through his body and, as Hermione pressed her lips to his gently. Remus answered with enthusiasm.

He plundered her mouth as he laid her down on their bed, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to tear at the ribbons on the front of her corset. Hermione arched her back, leaning into his touch but that didn’t help him much as Remus fumbled with the knots. He swore under his breath as he reached over to the side table for his wand, vanishing the ribbons and pulling the material away from Hermione.

His hands were still shaking slightly when he lowered them to caress her breasts for the first time. Hermione placed her hand on his face gently, pulling him down to meet her mouth once again. He knew that she could sense his nerves as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, eyes never leaving his. Remus ran his hands down to the soft plane of her stomach, holding in a grimace when he felt the slightly raised skin of her scars. It wasn’t that he was disgusted by them, far from it. When he felt the irregular pattern all he could feel was a sense of disgust with himself. Hermione was so perfect, unmarred, and he was a walking canvas of jagged lines and white marks.

‘You’re so perfect,’ he whispered reverently.

Hermione huffed a quite laugh. ‘Hardly,’ she whispered against his neck as she pressed kisses to it, ‘I’m sure you’ll have fun finding all of the marks left from years of adventures with Harry and Ron.’ She placed a kiss to his earlobe and Remus hissed when she dragged her teeth against it ever so gently. ‘But you have all the time in the world for that,’ she whispered, pulling at his belt.

She removed his last pieces of clothing and Remus groaned as she bit her lip before removing her own. He grabbed his wand and performed the appropriate spells to stop Hermione from getting pregnant and to try and ease the pain of her first time. It didn’t stop the small whimper she let escape as he invaded her body, but Remus swallowed her sounds with his mouth and stilled, whispering his love for her in her ear. How even now he couldn’t believe that Hermione would want to spend the rest of her life with him. Finally, she shifted her hips against his and urged him to continue.

Remus rested his forearms on either side of her head as he began to move. It took all of his self-restraint not to go too fast, he didn’t want their first time to be over before it had really begun. As it was, he was having trouble controlling himself while Hermione moaned and whimpered at their contact, her back arching and her hands running all over his body, apparently desperate to be as close as possible.

After a while Remus could feel her tightening and hear her pulse quickening. He watched her face as she finally let go, the sight tipping him over the edge with her. Both sweaty and sated, Remus turned and Hermione laid her head on his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. ‘I love you, Mrs Lupin,’ he murmured, stroking her hair gently as she hummed contentedly.

‘I love you too.’ She said as she looked up at him from under her eyelashes. ‘Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, Remus.’

‘It’s me who should be thanking you,’ Remus said with a soft laugh, ‘you invade my life, give me one of my best friends back, make the world a better place for everyone. You gave me my future back, Hermione,’ Remus said softly. ‘I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough.’

‘Love me,’ she said, resting her left hand on top of his, their rings glittering in the moonlight. ‘Stay with me forever.’

‘I already plan to.’


	27. Some Day Our Generation is Going to Rule the Population

**November 1983**

It had been seven months since she had become Hermione Lupin. Seven months filled with joy.

Both she and Remus had struggled a bit to gain some sort of balance after the both started new careers at the same time but they managed it and now Hermione was starting the slow climb up through the ranks of the department. She had become widely recognised as a defender of the rights of those suffering lycanthropy, although the role was somewhat thrust upon her when those whom she liaised with found out that she was married to a sufferer. Now she was in line for a promotion to junior manager of that branch of the department after less than a year of being employed there.

Remus was enjoying his new job too, she reflected. She had known that he would. The students loved him and many of the more reluctant parents were beginning to slowly change their attitudes towards him as a result. He took a few days leave of absence every full moon in which time Sirius (by permission of the auror department) would step in and take over his classes for a day or two until Remus was back on his feet. On the whole it worked quite well and only increased the bonds of friendship between the two.

Sirius had really proven himself to his fellow aurors in the last few months by catching several Death Eaters who had formerly escaped the squads after the war. Hermione had cried when he Dolohov was captured and sent to Azkaban, knowing that he would never do to anyone what had happened to her and that he would never have the opportunity to kill Remus. But despite this his high-flying career, Sirius continued to come home every night to look after Harry. Everything the teenage Harry she knew had been denied as a child was now open to him, including the love of a close but rather unconventional family in the shape Sirius, Remus and herself.

As for Remus and herself, Hermione was ridiculously happy. They still fought, not often and when they did it was impressive but short-lived. Their relationship was loving but volatile. More often than not arguments led to passion and they forgot what they had been arguing about in the first place. Still, here wasn’t a day went by that Hermione didn’t feel loved and cherished and she fell more in love with her husband every day.

‘’Mione, are you home?’ Remus’s voice called out form the hall. He must have spotted her shoes.

‘In the kitchen.’ She replied, taking another sip of her tea.

‘Why’re you home so early?’ He asked, dropping a kiss to her forehead. ‘You’re not sick, are you?’

‘I was this morning, but I’m fine now.’ She answered.

A look of panic flitted across his face. ‘Should you go to see a healer? I mean, do you feel alright?’

‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she reassured him, ‘I saw a healer this afternoon.’

‘And are you alright?’

‘Of course,’ she said airily, trying to hide her nerves. ‘Though I have something to tell you.’

Remus pulled out the chair next to her at the kitchen table. ‘What is it?’

Hermione took his hand in hers. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Remus opened and closed his mouth before crashing his lips to hers. ‘You’re pregnant? We’re going to be parents?’

Hermione nodded tearfully. ‘In seven months.’

‘Seven months,’ Remus repeated in wonder before he coughed. ‘Damn, you know what that means, don’t you?’ Hermione looked at him curiously, assessing his sudden change in mood as he snickered. ‘The only time we forgot the charms two months ago?’ He prompted.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn with shame as she remembered.

/-/

**May 1984**

‘You are never touching me again!’

Remus watched the midwife fighting to control her amusement as his wife vocalised her discomfort.

‘Now, honey...’

‘Don’t you “honey” me!’ she panted, ‘No more parties at Sirius’s house and I am never letting you anywhere near his bathroom ever again.’

Remus had the good grace to look slightly ashamed as the young midwife gave him a curious look. He remembered exactly how Hermione had become pregnant, he had known as soon as she told him that it had happened in September.

They had been having a party in Sirius’s house to celebrate the auror’s birthday. Hermione and Remus hadn’t known many people there and had spent most of the night dodging questions about their relationship and his condition. As the evening went on Hermione had a little bit more to drink and before she knew it she was more than just a little tipsy and he had been both shocked and amused to learn that Hermione was both very possessive and very handsy when she had been drinking. She had lured him upstairs under the pretence of collecting their coats before shoving Remus into the bathroom and locking the door.

‘She can’t have you,’ she purred in his ear as her hands pulled at his belt, ‘you’re my husband.’

It was only after they arrived home that Remus asked who Hermione had been talking about. She had broken sobbed out something about Sirius’s young cousin, Nymphadora. Remus had always known that Hermione was scared of another woman taking him away from her but he had never imagine that it would be someone so directly connected to their little group of friends.

‘There will only ever be you, ‘Mione.’

He struggled to reassure her, but how did one try to deny something which had not yet come to pass. He shook that thought off, it would never come to pass. Hermione held his heart and no other woman would ever compare to her. Except maybe their daughter.

‘’Mione you really...’

‘If you tell me to calm down, I’m going to castrate you,’ she warned, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain of another contraction. ‘Don’t think I won’t do it, I brought down Lord Moldy-Shorts.’

Molly Weasley’s boys had come up with that one. The family had become an extension of their close groups of friends through Sirius and Harry. Remus fought the urge to laugh, it probably wouldn’t endear him to her right now.

‘I swear we’re not having any more, twins is enough.’ She whined as Remus took her hand.

‘That’s okay, honey. We said we only wanted two anyway.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t expect to have to do it all at once!’ Hermione panted, her face becoming increasingly pain stricken.

‘I’m so sorry, ‘Mione. I wish I could make this better for you.’

Two more hours of painful labour later, Remus held his daughter in his arms while Hermione nursed their son.

‘I’m so proud of you,’ he whispered, kissing his wife’s forehead as he sat next to her and their son on the bed.

‘Alison Catherine and John Granger Lupin,’ she whispered to them, ‘we love you so much.’

She turned her eyes to his and Remus could see her love for him reflected in them. ‘And I love your mummy, very much,’ he whispered to little Allie.

/-/

**September 1995**

It was strange to think that if in her previous life in 1995 Hermione had been starting sixth year with Harry and Ron. The two of them were at the station today too, pushing their trolleys through the barrier in front of them with ease. There had been no Philosopher’s Stone and no flying car incident to bind them together, but still the boys had become good friends. Harry’s childhood had been untroubled and for that Hermione was thankful. Sirius, with a little help from the Weasleys and Hermione and Remus, had raised him to be a polite and kind young man. He had already given her a hug goodbye adding under his breath, ‘I’ll keep an eye on John and Allie, Aunt Hermione.’

It no longer felt as strange as when he has started calling her ‘Auntie ‘Mione’ when he was three. Hermione had long since accepted that this life was the one she was always meant to live. Everything she had experienced in her old world had led her to this one and the things she would do here. She and Remus had decided that they wouldn’t tell the kids about her past. They knew the official story, that Hermione had been friends with Regulus and then had later befriended Remus. When they were older then Hermione would reconsider telling them the truth and she put it out of her head until then. All that mattered to her now was that all of her extended family were happy and safe.

Sirius still kept her going about the name, though. Over the course of the last twelve years he had defied everyone’s expectations of him. He had worked hard and was now training new aurors. He had never married but had recently started to take interest in one of the aurors under his supervision. They couldn’t officially date until Jane had moved on to someone else’s team but she had been over to have dinner with Sirius and Harry and had even attended one of the now infamous Scrabble nights that had taken on a new vigour after Remus had introduced Arthur to the game.

Hermione had worked her way up too, she had been named the new head of department only a few weeks ago and as soon as she had told Remus he had yelled to the kids that they were going out for five minutes and had dragged her to Hogsmead.

‘Remus John Lupin, what are we doing here?’ Hermione groused, thoroughly confused as Remus pulled her through the bookshop he had worked in all those years ago.

‘You always spoil all my plans,’ he groused but smiled at her as her led her back to the history section. ‘This is where we met, on this day, thirteen years ago,’ he said with a smile. ‘I was feeling sentimental,’ he explained.

Hermione smiled at her husband and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I love you.’

‘Mum? We have to go now.’

Hermione pulled herself from her thoughts as she watched her two children hug their Uncle Sirius goodbye.

‘Be good, please,’ she requested, giving them each a kiss on the cheek, ‘or else you know I’ll hear about it.’

Allie laughed, ‘But mum, we’re always good.’ She had grown up more like her father, with his sandy hair and amber eyes, but she had her mother’s curls and her cheekiness.

‘Of course you are,’ Hermione said, rolling her eyes before turning to her son. ‘Now remember, dear, whatever the older students try to talk you into, ask Harry or Ron first.’

‘I’m not a baby, mum.’ He groused, flicking his brown fringe out of his eyes. She would never forget evening at the Burrow when he had eaten one of the ‘trial’ Skiving Snackboxes and she and Remus had spent the rest of the night in St Mungo’s with him. She still teased her son about it, finding secret satisfaction in the fact that this cheeks coloured as easily as hers did. She gave him one last hug.

‘Don’t I get a hug?’ She heard Remus ask Allie.

‘Sorry, Dad. It’s not cool to hug the teachers on your first day.’

Hermione snickered as her two children rushed off into the crowds.

‘You’re going to miss them, aren’t you?’ Remus asked as he wrapped his arms around her.

Hermione relaxed into his embrace. ‘Yes. You’re lucky, getting to see them every day.’

‘But I get to come home to you every night, without two nosy children in the house.’ His whisper had the hair on Hermione’s neck standing on end. Even now they were still very much in love and Hermione’s attraction to her husband had not abated as they got older.

Her theory that the Remus she had previously known had looked old before his time because he hadn’t had the resources to look after himself had proven to be correct. After the twins were born, Hermione had learnt how to become an animagus. Now on the nights of the full moon, a light brown haired wolf accompanied her mate and distracted him from the pain. The next day, Hermione would look after him as he recovered, her time off to do so being one of the changes she had implemented in her work for the Ministry.

They were both happy and safe and in love. Though her world had felt like it was crumbling when Hermione had been hit with the curse in 1997 her new life had turned out better than she could ever have hoped. She had saved the lives of so many people and instituted justice where there was previously corruption. She had lost her friendship with the two boys she had loved, but she had seen them grow up happy and had found new friends in her husband and in Sirius. And she had two beautiful children and a happy marriage with the man she loved. She couldn’t ask for a more blessed life.

‘I have to head back to school soon,’ Remus whispered as they watched the train pull out.

‘I know,’ Hermione sighed, turning in his arms. ‘I love you.’

Remus smiled at her, the light from the glass roof shining off his sandy hair. ‘I love you too, my beautiful wife. Let’s go home.’

Hermione smiled around at the people she called her family briefly before leaning up to wrap her arms around her husband’s neck, leaning her forehead against his. ‘I am home.’

**Author's Note:**

> JK Rowling has written the novels, I'm simply doodling in the margins.


End file.
